3:42am.

It's exactly 3:42am and it's one of those nights where sleep feels like a suggestion rather than something that's actually going to happen.

The room is quiet and my thoughts are loud and somehow, I find myself sitting up trying to put my thoughts together through writing and music.

Late nights are unique in a type of way, the memories you pushed aside, the questions you never answered and the feelings you convinced yourself weren't that serious suddenly finds their way back. This night is one of mine and I find myself thinking about pain.

People always believe that pain is only real when it's a bruise, a scar, a broken leg or arm. Something they can point to and say “oh, that must hurt”. But what about the things that leave no mark?

What about the messages you reread because you're still trying to understand what went down and where everything went wrong?

What about the friendships that slowly disappear until one day you finally realise you haven't spoken to someone you used to be very close with.

Or is it the words someone said as a joke..and you go to the bathroom and press rewind in your head.

Or the moment you faked a smile because explaining your silence felt more exhausting than hiding it.

I used to think that if someone was truly hurting, there would be a sign…tears somewhere or a breakdown. But overtime, I have learnt that some people are quietly falling apart.

Some of them are the ones making other people laugh while silently carrying pains in their heart. They always find some kind words for a stranger and never some for themselves.

Some others are saying “I'm fine” because they don't even know how to voice out what's wrong or because they think their reasons are not “big enough”

They're out there questioning themselves,

“am I even allowed to feel this way”

“other people have it worse so why am I complaining”

But little did they know that pain is not a competition. If someone else is drowning, it doesn't mean you also aren't allowed to struggle while staying afloat.

Many people have a habit of comparing pains. They look at their someone else's pain and use it as a reason to invalidate theirs.

Just imagine telling someone with a broken arm “at least, your leg isn't broken too” It sounds ridiculous, but some people do the same with emotional pain.

Some of the things that hurt me most were things I couldn't explain. Things I kept bottled up in me because I thought,

“how do I tell someone that this happened to me”

“how do I tell someone that even when I'm surrounded by people, i still feel alone”

There are several losses that don't get funerals. The old version of yourself, old friendships, the childhood version of you, the dreams you quietly have up on and maybe the person you thought you'd become. Nobody grieves them yet you still mourn them and maybe that's why they hurt so much, because apparently…they still exist.

The world teaches us to take physical pain and injuries seriously. If someone is bleeding, we immediately rush them to the hospital, if someone has a broken leg, we do the same.

But when someone says “I'm tired”, they only ask “Tired from what?” “What did you do that's making you tired?” As if sadness needs evidence, as if heartbreak needs permission, as if someone has to prove they're hurting before the can be comforted. But little do they know that some things that don't bleed, still hurt.