If you really want to be with me let's figure out a way to make this happen. I want to give you all the love God has given me for you. I need hugs and cuddles, long conversations, I want to give you my loyalty and support. Because I support everything you do. I have all this love to give and I need to give it. I hope you see this.

Was stuck in a weird place mentally. I’m getting better. Hopefully never have to go through whatever the fuck that was again. And it wasn’t limerence. I thought it was. I tried thinking of every negative thing to push you out. I just can’t hate you. You were a beautifully wonderful person. I love and miss everything about you

I miss you. And your kind words, your soft voice. Our tangents. Your blessings. You always had the peculiar ability to make me forget about whatever was on my mind, and to take over my thoughts. I’ve been thinking lately about our connection, and what exactly made it so special. The special ingredient so to speak. Sure, it could have been the secrecy, the situation, the power dynamics, our fucked up penchant for getting obsessed with one another. But to put it plainly, I think you were my soulmate. I truly do. Because in this life, how many people do you meet that you can talk to forever? Who you can speak to for hours on end, and you never run out of things to talk about? I think in life we only get one or two of those connections. And if I come away with anything from our little soirée, our little love affair, it’s that every moment, every second I spent with you, I will cherish till I’m gone.

I unequivocally forgive you. I hope you are aware of that, if you had even a skerrick of a doubt. Despite how our story ended. You will always be worth it, for eternity as far as I’m concerned. And simultaneously I’m so profoundly sorry to you, that I had to go and ruin things for us. That I let my emotions get the better of me, that I had to spew such venom at you. Because how could I? To my soulmate? To the man that saw me unlike any other? You used to turn me soft during the night, and you used to turn my guts upside down during the day, because every time I’d see you, a million butterflies would fly free in my chest. Your presence gave me a certified spark of electricity always, and a healthy dose of creativity as well to boot.

You know you can call any time, right? I mean that. Despite what you used to tell me about how “Once I’m done with someone, I’m done.” - I never really thought that would apply to us. Because I mean when you can hear someone through your dreams, through restless nights. Knocking at the doors of my neural passageways. You just, you don’t forget them. Ever. You will always be in my spirit, my mind, my soul. I hope you are healing, or are at least trying to. I hope you are healthy, I hope you are prospering, that you are successful, and that you are sleeping well. I know for a damn fact that you’re still sexy, nothing will ever change that. Stay well lovely boy, I’m always here if you wanna restart our life together.

All it would take is one message from you. Just an "I miss you." And I'd say it back so fast.

So fast we'd just start spilling out the rest of what we keep locked away, without question or second thought. Let it all out and just revel in the satisfaction and thrill and love.

We could be making love in a matter of weeks.

Just do it. Put us out of our misery.

You'll probably not even read this, I know. But you know me and I just have to tell you something.

I miss you. More than anything. You were the one who showed me what it really means to miss someone. In fact, you still do. I miss you more than the sun misses the moon.

I'm yearning so much. I'd only wish to be with you. I wouldn't wanna rush anything, I'd promise you that. I just wish I'd see you more often. I wish I'd see your smile, hear your laughter and hear your voice. I wish I'd be listening to your stories right now and maybe tell you things that happened to me just because you ask. I miss the way you tease me. I simply wish to be with you.

See? This is exactly what's between us anyway, isn't It? It seems like you have so much fun when we're together too. You wouldn't tell me so many stories if you didn't like our talks, would you? I'd only want more time with you. Not having to worry about the moments ending soon, but simply staying by your side a little longer. I'd only wish for a chance. A chance to try it and figure it out together.

You mean a lot to me, more than I could've ever imagined. You mean so much to me that I wouldn't want an Eternity if you're not part of it.

I still reread your letter. I’ve been sitting with it for a while. I don’t think you sound pathetic. You loved so very honestly, and I’d never want you to be embarrassed by that.

I’m sorry it hurts this much. I hate that you spent the night crying, and I hate more that I’m part of why. Stepping back wasn’t easy for me either. It wasn’t me walking away from something that didn’t matter. It was me trying to figure out how to hold something carefully when I didn’t know how to hold it at all. I know that doesn’t take the ache away, and I’m not asking you to agree with my choice. I just don’t want you to think it was careless.

You asked me not to ever see you as one of my regrets and you were never mine. Talking to you was one of the best things I could have ever asked for, and I’m glad we connected and though we don't speak anymore just know. I’d say yes again, even knowing how this ends.

If you move on, and I hope someday you do, it won’t erase anything. And if you ever forget me, that’s okay. It doesn’t make any of it less real. You mattered to me, and that stays true whether you remember it or not. Somewhere, in a version of the past that can’t be changed, you were loved, and you’ll always be cherished,

I wish things had been easier for both of us. I wish the timing had been kinder. But I’m thankful for you anyway, even with the ache that comes with it.

Be gentle with yourself.

I wish you well, now and forever.

With love,

Me

Text your person.

You know the one.

The one who has been waiting and not so secretly hoping you would just throw caution to the wind and cross that boundary once and for all.

If I said I love you
If I said I can’t stop thinking about you
If I said I think you’re the one for me
If I said I think you’re my soulmate
If I said I’m in love with your personality, your face, your body, your laugh
If I said I want you to call me
If I said there isn’t another person for me
If I said I needed you
Would you think I’m crazy

Ugh. Trying my best to implement boundaries because… duh. But gosh, every time I’m around you I can’t act normal.

Although, I’m never normal, and you’ve figured that out. One day I’m extroverted and the next I’m anxious. I’m working on it.

I’m not too sure why you do what you do to me besides me having a tiny crush. And I really shouldn’t. I know better— my under eye wrinkles tell the story of time. Yours tell a similar story; a longer one, just by a few years.

We’re quite alike and I’m sure if we had a chance, we’d see how alike we really are. Even as friends.

But, it’s way too insane of me to feel like this.

I’ll move past it soon. Find something to hate, I’m sure. But I’ll sit on Reddit ranting about it until it happens. Hopefully you find it flattering.

And it feels like I shouldn't but I do, hell I crave you.

I feel so lost at the moment like everything going on just fried my brain.

I want to see you, to have you hold me.

I don't know when but you became my safe place.

Please come back soon. I need you.

Unfortunately I can’t be 100% sure.
But I keep thinking about something you said once. Something I didn’t understand at the time, but couldn’t stop thinking about afterwards.
And if I’m correct and not overthinking it, you were talking about unsent letters online.

So with my detective cap on, I started reading through posts.
And I found one that felt so connected, even the profile reminded me of you.
I didn’t know what to do.
So I panicked, logged out, and pushed it to the back of my mind.

When I eventually logged back in and checked, the profile was deleted.
There are other letters that could be yours.
Some have deleted profiles, others talk about situations that feel strangely familiar.
Sometimes I read certain letters and wonder, Did I black out and write this myself?
Because they sound so similar to something I’d write about you.

But I don’t want to reach out.
Because if it isn’t you, it’s so easy to get lost in the searching. I don’t want to become delusional, or get too stuck in the limerence of it all.
For now I just check every so often and try to leave it at that.

But if there is a possibility that you’re out here, either reading or writing, please be safe.
I want to talk to you again, and I don’t think I’d recover if something happened to you before I got that chance.

And if you know me like you should, then you would know I’d never say anything negative or hateful about you.

I know why it started I just don't know why it hasn't stopped.

It wasn't anything big at first. It was just a very casual "Wow, I actually really like this person. They're pretty great. I should tell them." But in true me fashion I let it burrow in my head. I paid way too much attention from there on out. It started as just curiosity. Then every answer lead to yet another question.

Before I knew it, I wanted too much. I wanted all of the answers. I wanted to really, truly know you. I kept telling myself it was just because I'm nosey and not satisfied with nagging thoughts. But the thoughts began dragging me. You know when you accidentally picture someone naked and the more you try to stop, the worse it gets? That's how it was with you. The more I tried to distract myself with someone or something else, the more my thoughts just circled back to you.

I tried to get to you any way I could. You're always so steady and consistent, you don't break. Not the way I do. Not the way most do. And yeah, maybe you do privately but there comes a point where that's an actual skill that not many people have. God I just wanted to break you. Not in a harmful way. Just wanted to see a flaw. Humanize you. Bring you off the pedestal I placed you on.

I wove you into more than you ever wanted or knew. Yeesh you have no idea. The things I told myself. I'm actually impressed because it would make for a really, really good story. But life isn't a good story. It's fucking tragic usually. This was pretty tragic because it could have been so good if it weren't for the fact that in no version of reality was it ever going to be good.

You were never going to feel the same.
You were never going to be flattered.
You were never going to let me in.
I was never going to know you.
I was never going to be someone that mattered to you.
I was never going to get the answers to my billion questions.

And the part I hate the most is that with everyone in my past I have found a way to not think of them this way. I can't seem to do that with you. Not yet, at least. I am just banking on time taking it away. There are days when I feel so much that it actually makes me angry. I am very, very frustrated with myself over this so if you've somehow seen the things I've written and find yourself annoyed, trust me, me too.

This feels like watching a car crash in slow motion and I just want it to finally hit the wall. Wish things were different.

You are such a good person. Do you know that? I think about our circumstances, and it makes me so sad. I'm sad because of the part I've played. The last thing I am is proud. I'm not sure if you deal with any issues regarding the mistakes you made or not, but if you do, I just want to tell you that it's okay. In the end, you showed up. You did everything you could for me, for us. You fought as hard as you could for me. FOR ME! Do you know that nobody has ever done that for me before? I don't know how I failed to see it at the time. I just made excuses and let you down. You put forth real effort, and I failed you.

I'm really starting to see exactly what I've done. I'm realizing what my selfishness cost me. I'm so very ashamed of myself. I'm so proud of you, though. You are a shining example of what a good person is. You are a shining example of what it means to do the right thing. You are the kind of person that I look up to. Someone like I want to be. I realize that I haven't been consistent with any of the changes I've made. Not yet, anyway. I thank you for accepting me as I am, and I thank you for sticking by me on my worst days. I hope you know I would've done the same for you. I'm not exactly sure why you and I refuse to give up on one another, but if I had to guess it's because of how much we love one another.

I've reflected and I see how I hurt you. I see how you were begging me to try, and I see how I didn't see it. One day, I would like for us to have a conversation about things. I would like to explain what was going on with me in my mind. Not because I think you need to hear it. Not because I want it to change anything. I just think that sharing our respective perspectives is what best friends are supposed to do with one another. I realize that I've probably forever lost the opportunity to change things back to how they once were, and while I know it's my fault, I feel like the only thing I can do to show that I'm better is to just be better.

I can't tell you what the future holds, and I can't tell you how I'm going to feel tomorrow. But what I can tell you is how I feel right now. Right now, I'm ready to change. I'm ready to stop making excuses. I'm ready to do the right thing because I know that's what you would do. I don't expect for it to change anything, as far as you and I go. You have never stopped showing up for me and being someone I can depend on, so what more could I ask for? I know you'll be beside me the whole time, just like you have always been. I don't want you to get your hopes up, though, because I don't have the right to get your hopes up. I've let you down an infinite number of times already. Let's just take it one day at a time, okay? We'll celebrate the victories as they come instead of before they happen. I'm not doing it to make things different. I'm doing it to make me different. I think that was my problem the whole time.

Thanks for being such an amazing person to me. Thank you for sticking by my side. Thank you for doing everything you could for me. Thank you for fighting for me when I didn't deserve it. But most of all, thank you for loving me.

With every shred of my unworthy heart and every shred of my unworthy soul, I love you, too.

If I said I wanted to hear your perspective, would you believe me?

If I said that I wanted to respond to your stories, your troubles, your anxieties, about what makes you real mad, about what breathes life into you, would you believe me?

If I told you I wanted to hear how my actions affected you, would you let me hear it?

If I told you my therapist told me that I would probably make a really good therapist, would you laugh?

If I told you that I would be saddened to hear news of your passing, in spite of everything that happened in the end, would you believe me?

If I told you that I love you, as a brother I wish I had, as a man I know I can learn so much from, as someone I would want to share many life experiences with, as someone I would try to do everything in my power to help wherever I can...

Well, I can tell you all of that.

But whether or not you're willing to let me show you, that's out of my hands.

I made you doubt a lot of things. That's on me.

The ball's still in your court.

I'm sorry for everything.

But I don't need you to believe me on that one.

You were right to break up with me. My depression made me a ghost, its what I do. Its what I am. Our time together was incredible, and I hope you find someone better than me. We had our cobbled families, I still have your clothes in my closet, along side everything that was just lost to the destruction that was my own doing. I warned you, I tried to push through again but the sorrow pulled me under faster than I could breathe, the warning was lost.

I don't blame you. I admire you. I miss you. I hope you're doing well, and I hope to see you smiling one day with a new partner that will give you what I could not. You deserve happiness wherever you can find it.

I know you were worried about me being angry because of how you did it, but it was the right choice. I was a shell of who you fell for, and I'm still working on piecing myself back together, I understand and I am not angry, never with you.

Hey You,

There's a lot to say. A lot to unravel. A lot of conversations I'd like to be having face to face. But perhaps we're both still untangling. Perhaps we're both scared, tired from battles neither knew the other was fighting. Still trying to make sense of all that has happened. Still learning whether to show the raw parts to each other.

But the most important thing for you to know, before and above anything else, directly from me, is that I love you. I loved you then, I love you still. Not a single day has gone by these past two years that I don't think of you, ache for you, miss you. Want you. Feel you. Fucking yearn for you.

And I'm no longer scared to feel that, or for you to see it. I'm fucking proud of it. I found the truth. I fought for it. It's mine. And it's yours. And what could be more beautiful?

You live in my mind, my body, my heart, my soul. I am oriented towards you like a compass to true north; in distance, in silence, in restraint. I miss you constantly. Your presence, your words, your mind, your wit, your gentle care, your quiet observations, your intentional consideration. The way you make me laugh against my will. The safety you create, even when I didn't know how to inhabit it. The sheer joy and wonder of not just the freedom to follow a subject as far as humanly possible; but with someone who is capable of walking there with me. The meaning we made together. Your body tangled with mine. Nights when the entire world disappeared, creating a corner only you and I inhabited. Time stopped, for us.

Moments with you - it's the most alive I've ever felt. It's the most me I've ever felt. It's the closest thing to magic I've ever experienced.

There is no one like you. That fact arrived in me quietly but forcefully two years ago; do not doubt for a second that I have set it down since. I can't. I know. I always have. My love for you is a flame I've tended carefully in my heart, across time and distance and the conscious restraint that I called respect. I carry it with me everywhere I go. There is no one else, no other you. I lay awake, night after night, aching with the knowledge that it is you; or no one.

For how could I lay next to someone else when my heart belongs to another? When it has been yours since I handed it to you two years ago? It wouldn't be fair, it wouldnt be honest. I'd be settling. So, I resolved myself to the pain of you or no one, convinced myself I'll spend the rest of my life alone fueled by sheer principle and defiance.

And I fought for you, in my own way. I told you I love you, repeatedly. Until you told me to stop trying to have that conversation. So I stopped. I respected you enough to listen to what you asked for; the life you were already leading. That is how I thought I was loving - with consideration.

I thought - if you loved me back, you'd choose me. You'd want to give this - us - the form of a relationship that honors it, protects it, holds it. A chance to be this happy every day; and a promise to stay for every mundane one, too. I needed that. I needed a form for our love to inhabit in this world, not only in our hearts and minds and bodies, a worldly form that says - you. I choose you.

I'm seeing now that maybe it wasn't quite that simple. Don't get me wrong - I wanted to be chosen. I deserve that.

But while you may not have chosen the relationship with me that I asked for; I see now that you may still have felt every ounce of what I did, what I still do. That it never left you either.

I'm finding that truth never does.

And I did know, somewhere, that you felt what I did. It's why I kept saying it. I couldn't understand - if we both felt this big, what were we supposed to do with it? Where was it supposed to go?

But I didn't want to cause you pain. Can you see that, even a little bit? You had a life, a choice you made - how could I burden you with my feelings? How could I make that choice harder on you? How could I choose to cause you active pain? Not because I didn't think you could handle it; I just couldn't bear hurting you. That was the last thing I wanted. So I performed. I put the mask on. I held it back from you. For you, or so I thought.

That may be the story I tell myself - and there's significant truth in it. But I think it was also an easy tale to reach for. I could paint myself as noble for not fighting for you in the name of consideration, of respect for the life you chose.

And even then - it still got the better of me, at times. I need you to know - every time I brought us up, I was trying to tell you I love you in the only way I knew how. With words. Saying what I wanted, where I wanted that love to live. It was the only thing I knew how to do.

Words were all I had - during the decade of domestic violence I survived, they were my only weapon. Words. And I think, somewhere without me knowing, my words became cutting; a defensive sword I wielded without really knowing my own power. But a sword wielded unknowingly still cuts. I see that now.

The pain of realizing I hurt you - with words, or the distance that followed - is indescribable. I never thought myself wholly innocent in this - but realizing my impact? You never deserved to be made to feel less than, or not enough. Because to me, you are everything. That I conducted myself in a way that conveyed anything else is devastating. I survived horrors that birthed these defensive reflexes; that I, in turn, perpetuated the same type of harm against the one person I love when all I ever wanted was the opposite?

Regret is not a welcome friend but I am inviting her in tonight. The guest room is made up, her bags are unpacked, the wine is poured. We need to tame those monstrous reflexes. Bring them out into the light, let them adjust their eyes. Make sure they are given the attention they deserve in every conversation I ever have in relationship going forward.

They'll be joining the feelings I've been learning to sit with. The full spectrum of them. Because with you, back then, I was only just learning to keep them company. When you're being abused, any feeling at all is unbearable. Disconnect is survival.

And then - you. You made my heart, my feelings, love - begin again.

And not small, dainty feelings. Oceanic, volcanic, stormy feelings. Meeting you helped me finally understand the passion every poet had been waxing on about for centuries prior.

And then - I didn't know how to stay. Because I felt so much. And because staying, loyalty - those were the traits that nearly killed me in my marriage. I'd gotten so used to scanning every single interaction with a partner for signs of a threat; that I began projecting my own trauma onto innocent interactions. Seeing shadows where there was only midnight's quiet placid.

I told myself you left first. You chose something else. I see now that I had already begun withdrawing before. I thought it was you who left me. But I left, too. I suspect you knew that, in a way. I just wish you'd told me. Maybe I wouldn't have listened at the time; but I would have gotten it eventually.

I'm sorry if I ever made you question yourself. Wondering what you'd done wrong; why my reaction was so severe. I was fighting memory; not you. It was not your responsibility to know the difference.

I think the most terrifying part of this is realizing how long I couldn't see my own distortion. How long I was convinced my own perception was the truth. How long I let fears script my reality without even knowing it.

Defense become my default; I mistook it for the truth of me.

But you? I think you saw who I was underneath that. And I think that may have been part of what saved me.

You see who I actually am. You trusted that underneath the tangle, the goodness in me would prevail. Would remember. And thanks to you, and hundreds of hours of therapy, I do.

None of this excuses that I hurt you. My heart crumbles at the realization. And I'd like to apologize, properly. If you'd let me. If you might be able to forgive me. If you let me, I promise to listen. To take accountability. And to treat you with the tenderness and care that is the truth of who I am.

I just - I didn't always know what you were feeling. There were times I thought I knew. But I didn't know how to trust myself. Didn't know which of the thoughts swirling in my head came from me; and which came from trauma. Didn't know how to see beyond my own pain to when I'd caused yours.

And so - sometimes I need it said. Sometimes I need you to tell me the thoughts in my head aren't true. Sometimes I need you to tell me what you need. Sometimes I need you to say that I hurt you. And sometimes, I need you to attribute my misinterpretation to scars from the battle I fought; and not as an indictment of your character on my part.

Because I've never thought of you as anything but simply good. I do know you. I do see you. I do understand you. I just don't always see myself.

I didn't think I could be loved in that romantic, profound way I always wanted to be loved. You scared me because you were everything I had ever wanted. It felt too good to be true. I didn't know how to trust it.

And then, to be fair to me - our circumstances were complicated, to say the least. How could I overcome my own battle scars; in the same moment I had to overlook the reality of where we stood? I didn't know how to have faith in us when I doubted myself; and when the circumstances we stood in told me I wasn't chosen.

And every night since - I ache. The tears I've cried for you could probably fill the ocean between us. I miss you. Constantly.

I drowned in it. I let myself. I sank to the bottom, let the fears keep me company. Listened when they said that no one will ever choose me. Ache for me this way, the way I ache for you. That no one will miss me, the way I miss you. That no one will love me, the way I love you. That no one would ever fight for me.

And I let them. I let them taunt me. Practically made the chorus my ringtone.

I need you to know - that says more about my own self worth, what I'd been taught to believe in the decade before you - than it does about your love, your way of loving, or how you show it.

Or my ability to see you. To understand you. Because somehow, underneath everything, I still do. It was always a me thing, not a you thing. And I think you knew that.

Which is how you knew I'd make it out. That the fears would lose their cacophonous edge, fade to white noise.

I think at times, your faith in me is what kept me going. When I told you I wouldn't be where I am today without you - I meant it.

I think more than anything - I just want you to know my truth. Not the story my trauma scripted; not the gaps you had to write in distance from your side of the field.

I got a lot wrong. I hurt you.

I see that now. And I am so sorry for it. Truly.

I understand that it left you feeling unseen and unloved and unchosen, believing that I didn't love you.

I see that, and I understand why that would be your interpretation. It makes perfect sense from your vantage. It's your truth, and it's real. I likely would have felt the same. In my own way, and from my own vantage; I did.

I just don't accept that interpretation as the truth. As the story of us. Because us is two; Because my side of the field counts for something, too. There's yours, and there's mine, and there's the truth in the middle.

How you feel is yours to write; and mine to be accountable for where I ever got it wrong or caused pain, wherever my actions didn't accurately convey my feelings.

But how I feel? That's my truth to write, no one else's. And I finally choose to offer my words as truth's balm; not wield them as weapon.

And my truth is that I love you. I love you. I always have, and I always will. With every part of me. In the only ways I know how, and in all the ways I'm still learning to.

I may not have always spoken it in the language you needed to hear it in. But I've been trying, for years now, to show you. In the ways I thought you might understand, the ways I thought you might need, in the ways I was capable. In restraint. In returning. In staying. In reaching. In giving space and not taking silence personally. In offering support and encouragement. And finally - in telling you all of this.

I should have fought harder for you two years ago. But I had to learn to fight for me first. And all of it - the learning, the growing, the returning, the staying, the reaching - that is me fighting for you, too. I'm here. I'm here, and I'm fighting. Do you see?

Dear friend, If you see this, perhaps you are also hoping to find a glimmer of something that has been just out of reach.

Thoughts of you and words unspoken consume me. My heart grows bigger to absorb them. Memories and restless dreams swirl together. Let us shelter together to ride out this storm.

Those penetrating eyes. To a connection that is only ours to see.

The warm smile with a trace of something more, like it has a secret too.

A lingering hug the first time we first said goodbye. The dread of the next time, which might be the last.

That summer day when I wanted to warm your hands.

The reach of your hand to help. The time I pretended I didn’t see it. Scared that I wouldn’t let go. Fear that feelings may spill out, uncontrolled.

The time you sat to my left. I could hear your breathing. Were your senses ablaze like mine?

The times you sat to my right. Almost touching. I can barely breathe.

Panic ensues. I cannot bear the risk alone

And so it goes. Hopes fester and turn to thoughts of our next connection, next opportunity, conversations yet unspoken, perhaps unrequited, desperate for reciprocation. But the countdown has started. How much time remains?

Hoo boy, here we go!

Months of buildup, and we’ll finally get to taste the pudding.

It sounds presumptuous to say it, perhaps a bit premature, but I’m fairly certain the proof will be there.

Every internal milestone has felt like cresting a hill on a rollercoaster, and this is the biggest drop yet. I can see some wild twists and turns that follow.

Some, but not all. Ay, there’s the rub…

I’m getting so far away from my own lion’s mouth of codependency, enabling and over-functioning, I don’t recognize the landscape. The only thing I know is the path back to the lion, and I’m sure as hell not going there again.

But I was expecting to walk alone. At least until I found my footing and my confidence again. Until I understood this unfamiliar terrain. But, as I pulled myself out, torn and bruised, you were there. Compared to what you’d been through, my lion looked like a lamb.

Yet you looked at me with admiration and held out your hand. You walked beside me on your own two feet. You haven’t asked me for water; you’ve got your own. You hold my hand because you like the way it feels in yours, not because you’re afraid of getting lost.

I’ve accepted that you’re just going to keep showing up.
I’ve accepted that our plans are actually going to happen. I’m imagining your face when I finally see it in person…

But “finally” is coming up fast, and this roller-coaster-tummy feeling is driving me crazy! And it feels even crazier that all I’ve got to do is hold on for the rest of the ride.

😳😳😳

I am committed to letting you go.
It’s just so hard not to think of you. To stop wondering if you’re thinking of me, too.
You’re not. You’re just not.
I’m trying to sit with the discomfort of that realization. To let myself feel the disappointment instead of searching for another reason to hope. I’m trying to accept that maybe I read too much into some things, and maybe I understood a few things exactly as they were.
But the objective truth doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?
Because regardless of what was real and what I imagined, I’m still left with this gnawing feeling. This insatiable desire to know more, more, more about you, only to be given next to nothing.
And what a waste of my imagination. All the stories I could be writing, all the worlds I could be building, and instead I find myself inventing conversations we’ll never have.
The deep kind. The kind that stretch into three in the morning, when the rest of the world is asleep and neither person wants to be the first to say goodnight.
I wanted that with you so badly.
And I think one of the hardest things to accept is that I’ll never know if you were capable of wanting that with me, too. I’ll never know what those conversations might have sounded like, what you would have told me, or whether you ever felt even a fraction of the curiosity I felt about you.
But I have to believe that if you had wanted to know me, I would know so much more about you by now.
So I’m choosing to let you go.
Not because I’ve stopped wondering. Not because the feelings have disappeared. And certainly not because it’s easy.
But because I cannot keep giving so much of myself to the possibility of someone who has given me so little in return.
I know this will be difficult. I know there will be moments when my curiosity gets the better of me, when I’ll want to search for meaning in something insignificant, when I’ll miss the version of you I’ve come to know only through my imagination.
I hope choosing to let you go will be worth it.
And until I’ve finally managed to do that, I’ll write to you here. I’ll pour every unanswered question, every disappointment, every lingering thought into this little void until there’s nothing left I need to say.
Perhaps someday I’ll realize I haven’t thought of you in weeks.
And perhaps that will be enough.
See ya.

I won’t write anything too much for you to read. I just miss your personality. That’s it. I really miss hearing your input and everything sarcastic you had to say.

I am moving on, my life is improving drastically, but I miss you a lot. I’m starting to accept that we are never going to talk again and I know that this is for the best, because we weren’t kind to one another.

We both deserved a lot better. I’ve come to realize that I can’t keep trying to chase someone that doesn’t want to meet me halfway. I would do anything to improve with you, but I know other responsibilities need to come first for you and I can’t wait anymore. I realized I waited for you both times you took me out. Both, over an hour. I made you comfortable with the idea of being able to set me aside without communicating it and it’s not okay.

I need to be kinder to myself and I will be, but I will always miss you.

You’ve been on my mind non-stop. I don’t know how to stop it. I can’t talk about it with anyone.

That’s probably why I can’t get you off my mind. I have no venting space. No space where anyone would listen without judgement. And the one I talk to who doesn’t judge has been so busy.

I’ve let my mind slip into thoughts of being in your arms around me. Feeling the tickle of your stubble on my check. You lips and teeth brushing against my neck. Your hands running through my hair. Slowly grabbing it and pulling my head backwards.

Your hot breath on my neck. I start to squirm in your arms. You push us up against a wall. And finally our eyes lock. Our breath catches. At that moment our eyes shut and mouths and minds collide.

Clearly I have had too much time with you on the mind.

Could you give me some reprieve. I dream of you enough. I just want this reality so much. My heart feels like it’s going to burst out my chest just imagining this could be a reality.

Do you know how hard it is
To keep from reaching for my phone,
To text you,
To check on you,
To be the one who breaks the silence between us?

Still, my pride stands watch,
And my ego keeps me cold.

I didn’t have the heart to tell you
Just how much I miss you,
Because..
I don't even know if we exist on the same page.

So I choose to remain here,
Silent.
It feels safer than speaking it to the dark,

Hoping that the sudden glow of a notification
Might spell your name—
So I can finally gather the ghost of my courage and say:
I miss you... too. 🥀

Finally cut all ties to one of the most toxic and growth inducing relationships I have ever had. I know I will never settle again for games and breadcrumbs. I know there is a man out there that is the full package and loyal. I can’t wait to love a man who loves me back fully, and he is just around the corner ❤️ never looking back again!

If you’d be down to go

To every place I go

With me?…

And then we can

Laugh and play and

Sing and dance and

Kiss…

And all the songs

Will blend into a

Beautiful soundtrack

Of our love.

My love.

It's half past ten and the moon is waxing. I'm sitting at my table and the room is silent. I'm drinking a coffee. Why not? I would've laid awake and thought of you anyway.