I still love you. I want you in my life, I want to be in yours, however we can. It may never be romantic again. I know you lost trust in me, and despite attraction, I don't presume you have feelings left for me, or would risk any commitment. I think that's valid. I know you care though. You are a wonderful person. But there may always be this awkward distance between us that we can't cross. I don't want either of us hurting again, more than life already hurts. I'm trying not to expect or hope for anything. I just want the best for you. To do what you need to do to get through this time, go where you need to go. I want the best for me too, even if my life may never be much of my own. I'm trying to be content, accept my life for what it is. I hope you're always a part of it, but you'll be in my heart til the end regardless.

To know me, is to know love. I wish you got the chance to see my depth. We crossed paths but I knew you before. I was so blindsided, you set my world on fire. I can’t let you go, you’re stuck on my mind. You are such a beautiful soul. You can act like you forgot, but the way we connected was beyond connection. I just wanna hold you, and never let go. I see you past the high walls you set up. If you’d let me in, you could rule my world I would adore you. I can see past the tough exterior you carry. You’re beyond gorgeous and you probably never read this, but I want you. I don’t care about the past or what anyone has to say. I can feel it and I know you can too. You could be my queen, you can run my chessboard. You’re so fine I just want a kiss, I’m already in love. Just give me a chance, it’ll be the best decision you ever made. I don’t know if you believe in soulmates, but I think I just found mine🖤

I feel the air change when we're both in the same room. It’s like the slight shift you feel just before a storm. It's just different when you're there.

   I catch you looking at me all the time, when you don't think I can see. It's far too much to be an accident.

   I focus on anything else, I have to. My phone, the clock, any activity going on around me, I pretend to care about these little things, to force my eyes away from meeting your gaze and seeing what you're doing, but my body always knows exactly where you are.

You embody everything that my mind shouldn’t want, but does. I can't turn it off, its as if my brain is wired to like your particular energy, or something else i can't explain.

   When you "show off" it fucking ruins any composure I pretended to have, although I think I hold it together enough to where others don't pick up on it. I see you looking for me to make sure I saw.

   When I notice your eyes seeking mine across the room, looking for me every time, everything else sort of blurs.

   Years of secret glances from both of us, have accumulated to create a friction that could start a fire if we got too close. That feeling sometimes consumes my thoughts, while I'm laying in bed at night.

   I try to avoid you. I force myself to look away, stay away, because nothing can ever happen, right? Even if i wanted to talk to you, my words somehow wouldn't be able to leave my mouth.

   You're exactly my type, whether you believe that or not. You make me nervous in a way I hate, but also can't get enough of.

   I don’t want to tear apart your life or mesh our worlds together, I just want the heat from that friction we've created, the heat I've thought about countless nights.

   I want to feel your eyes on me up close, to know what your voice sounds like when you're so caught up in a moment, barely a whisper escapes.

   But between the boundaries created for us, and the nerves that keep me silent, we will remain two people who have a mutual desire they can never give into.

   I am left wanting. For a secret message, a private conversation, or just a piece of paper left on my windshield, that finally confirms what our energy, eyes, and silent acknowledgement have been saying for a while now...that I'm not crazy, we both want this, and its not impossible.

I think about you still.

We used to talk until we didn’t anymore.

But I still love you.

Come back?

To all the real 1s .

I hope that you find relief .

I hope you let them go so you can heal and be better and get better.

I hope you heal and notice the world happening around you again.

I hope you realize that it was you the whole time that it was you holding onto them and the idea of a future they knew yall would never have .

I hope you find the tools and strength to let it and let them go sooner than later.

I hope you finally give it , its proper name . Grief . And navigate through it and not by it .

I hope you heal and feel safe in your own skin again .

everything is crashing down on me at once. i don’t say this to expect sympathy from you but i really fucking miss you all the time and it’s even worse somehow when i’m going through this. i want to tell you so bad. i want to talk to you so bad. i want to open up to you about parts of me i was too ashamed of before.

but i can’t put my grief on you. i can’t tell you anything, even if it was all good news. as much as i want to text you or call you at all hours of the day, i care about you enough to continue to respect your boundary while always wishing you the best

so i write it here. i won’t go into detail but im dealing with so many different kinds of grief at once. it feels like im just floating through each day

the uncertainty of everything and feeling like i have no control over anything in my life

i wonder if you relate. i hope things have been easier on you lately.

and selfishly through it all i hope you miss me too. i wish we could talk

You know, I was thinking about what you said earlier, and after giving it some thought, I'm going to have to disagree with you. I think at this point it's perfectly clear that I'm going to continue sticking by your side as long as you'll have me. I have no doubts about whether you're going to keep me around, too. You see, it's that sticking together thing that you and I do so damn well, you know? So, today wasn't my lucky day. My lucky day was the day I first met you, and it has continued every single day since that day. Because of you, I have a lucky life. I just hope that my luck never runs out. Love you.

Rome wasn't built in a day, yet somehow, you turned it to rubble within hours. 

Resolve, restraint, and you follow it with a gentle reassurance that gives me nerves and comfort. 

How many times will we fall? Together, again and again, the same threads woven together to the same stupid tapestry that is fate pulls me back to you. 

Do you do it on purpose? 

Do I? 

Maybe. 

I do. 

God, those two words in sequence shouldn't be around me. I shouldn't think of them. Shouldn't listen to anything that resembles them. Shouldn't try whispering them under my breath. 

Shouldn't hope that I'd hear it one day. 

There's a set time limit again. The clock rewinds. The hands tick its onerous, pounding rhythm.

I've little hope… but God, am I happy to see you again, and waking knowing you'll be beside me, at least for tomorrow. 

I put a lot onto the idea of you. Distraction. Excitement. Possibility. Joy. But I thought it was real—all of it. The now and the maybe. Maybe it never was. Maybe the playlist of our time together was just a collection of songs we both like. Maybe the meaning came from my dreams and never our shared experiences. Maybe. But I still wish I could go back to when it still felt new, exciting, possible. When I woke up nervous in the giddiest way. You had most of me. Now only the broken bits.

Hey You,

I don’t know how to say goodbye to someone who never knew they meant so much to me.
That’s the thing about feelings like these. You carry them alone. You make a home for them somewhere deep inside yourself, in a place no one can see, and you learn to live with the ache of wanting something you have no right to ask for.
And God, I wanted to.
There were moments when I wanted to tell you. Moments when the words sat right there, at the edge of my lips, and all I had to do was be brave enough to let them fall. But I didn’t. I convinced myself there was no point. That nothing good could come from saying something that perhaps should never have been felt in the first place.
Maybe I was right. Maybe I was a coward. I suppose I’ll spend the rest of my life never knowing the difference.
And that hurts more than I care to admit.
Because somewhere in the quiet corners of my mind, there will always be that question. What if I’d told you? What if I’d let you see the part of me I worked so hard to hide? Would you have looked at me differently? Would you have felt something, anything, that might have made all this worth it?
Or would I have lost even the little bit of you I had?
I’ll never know. And I hate that I’ll never know.
But I hate something else, too. I hate that I have to say goodbye to something that never really began. There’s no ending to point to, no last kiss to remember, no final conversation to replay in my head. There’s just me, standing here with all these feelings and nowhere to put them.
How do you grieve something you never had?
How do you let go of someone who was never yours to lose?
I don’t think anyone tells you how cruel that kind of heartbreak can be. How you can miss someone without ever having had them. How you can feel the weight of an ending when, to the rest of the world, there was never anything to end.
And you’ll never even know.
You won’t know that I’m trying to teach myself not to look for you. That I’m learning to stop wondering when I’ll see you, stop holding on to the smallest moments, stop giving meaning to things that may have meant absolutely nothing to you.
You won’t know how many times I’ve had to remind myself that wanting you doesn’t mean I get to have you.
And you certainly won’t know how hard it is to walk away from a possibility I never even gave a chance to exist.
Perhaps these feelings were never supposed to be here. Perhaps some people come into our lives and awaken things in us that we have no choice but to bury again. Maybe not every feeling deserves to be confessed. Maybe not every truth needs to be spoken.
But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.
And I am tired of pretending it doesn’t.
I’m tired of carrying something so quietly that I’ve almost convinced myself it was never real. Tired of swallowing words that will never be heard. Tired of wondering about a different ending when I know I have to live with the one I chose.
So this is me letting go.
Not because I stopped feeling something for you. Not because I finally found a way to make sense of it. And not because some part of me doesn’t still wish things could have been different.
I’m letting go because I cannot keep holding on to something that has nowhere to go.
You deserve to live your life without the weight of feelings you never asked for. And I deserve to stop living in the shadow of a possibility that may have only ever existed in my heart.
I won’t tell you. I won’t leave you wondering. I won’t make my feelings your burden to carry.
You will never have to know that there was a version of me that wanted you in ways I could never explain. A version of me that wondered what it would feel like to be the person you looked for, the person you missed, the person you wished was there.
You will never know that, for a while, the thought of you was enough to make an ordinary day feel different.
And perhaps that is how it should be.
But if I’m being honest, there is a part of me that wishes you knew. Not because I expect anything from you, and not because I want you to change anything. I just wish, once, that the truth could exist outside of me. That I could stop being the only person in the world who knows what this has meant.
But I made my choice. Silence was the safest place for these feelings, and now it has to be where they die.
So goodbye.
Goodbye to the words I will never say to your face. Goodbye to the questions that will never have answers. Goodbye to the little moments I held too close, the hopes I had no business entertaining, and the part of me that kept wondering if maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about everything.
And goodbye to you — not because you did anything wrong, but because I need to stop holding a place for you in my heart that you never knew existed.
I wish I could say I’m leaving this without regret. I can’t.
I regret that I’ll never know. I regret that I was too afraid to find out. I regret that I have to bury something that, for a little while, felt so alive inside me.
But more than anything, I regret that I have to let you go without ever having had the chance to hold on.
Tomorrow, I’ll see the world as I always have. I’ll smile when I need to. I’ll speak when I’m spoken to. I’ll carry on, and you’ll carry on, and nothing about the world will change.
You won’t notice my goodbye. You won’t feel the moment I finally stop hoping. You won’t know that somewhere, quietly, a part of me is choosing to walk away from you.
And maybe that is the hardest part of all.
That something can mean so much to one person and absolutely nothing to the other. That I can be breaking my own heart over a goodbye you will never even know took place.
I loved the possibility of you. Maybe I loved the idea of you. Maybe I built too much around too little. I don’t know anymore, and I suppose it doesn’t matter now.
What matters is that I felt it. All of it. Even if I was the only one.
And now I have to be the one to end it.
So I will.
I will leave you exactly where you are, untouched by the truth, unaware of what you meant to me. And I will take these feelings with me until, one day, they no longer hurt quite so much.
You will never read this. You will never know it was written for you.
But if I could give myself one last moment of honesty, without fear or consequence, I would tell you this:
I wish things had been different. I wish I’d been braver. And I wish that, somewhere in another version of this life, I got to know what it felt like to be wanted by you, too.
But this is the life I have. And in this life, I have to let you go.
So goodbye, you.
To the person you were, to the person I imagined you could be to me, and to everything that will now remain a question I carry to my grave.
I hope life is kind to you.
I hope you find everything you’re looking for.
And I hope, one day, when your name crosses my mind, it no longer feels like losing something I never got to have.
You will never know how hard it was to walk away from you.
Maybe that’s for the best.
But I will know.
And for now, that has to be enough.
Goodbye You.
This time, I’m not leaving the door open.

N

I posted it. You unintentionally responded…by accidentally typed it while I was standing there and I STILL missed it.

I don’t know what to say. I was/am so love-stricken by you that it completely flew over my head. It was you, the one who isn’t picky about it being re-heated.

It’s me. Yes. I want you. Yes, I have deeper than “crush” feelings.

Yes, I’ve been hot and cold too because I wasn’t sure it was mutual.

It is so fucking mutual. See you soon.

Ps. Stop lying to me.

Am I looking for you in every post here? Probably. Are you on Reddit even? I have no clue. It’s so easy to read into things when you're longing for someone. I wish you’d just tell me if you feel how I do, I sense it some days that you do- though I’m just as guilty of hiding behind a screen. You are hard to read and it seems you have feelings and are holding back, or is it all wishful thinking? And that’s where I get stuck.

I hate where we both are right now. I wish my situation would change faster than it’s on track to at the moment. I miss you immensely, and texting, as much as I love talking to you this way, isn’t enough anymore. You are on my mind way more than I would admit. I crave your eye contact again, your physical presence, and the real closeness we had even if it was short lived and left unsaid in those moments.

I’m terrified that telling you how I feel will make me look like a fool—or worse, ruin what we have. But the distance is killing me. If I finally take the leap and tell you everything, what would you say? Do you love me as much as I have fallen for you?

I hope to always remember you, but as time goes on… it all seems to fade. Your smile, your laugh, your face, your body. And that hurts. I miss it all.

You deserved better and I was anything but that.

I should’ve fought for you, believed in you, and loved you properly. I don’t think I’ll ever learn how to love properly, but I’ll spend this lifetime trying. Even if it’s just myself.

🎶 I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.

Take me back to the night we met 🎶

it took me longer than i would like to admit to realize you don’t want it to be me, and honestly that's okay. i’m lucky i was able to care for you the way i did, because i know we both needed it, and you helped me in ways you will probably never understand.

its been months since we last spoke, and i like to think you're doing better without me. you and i are on separate paths of life now, and although you hurt me and i probably hurt you too, i really do hope you find somebody that can give you everything i couldn't and mostly, i hope you achieve everything in life that you told me you wanted to achieve.

I don’t care about what you’ve done wrong anymore. I was angry for a while, and a ton of people in my life or I’ve spoke to in passing have agreed with me and told me you did me dirty.

But it doesn’t matter. I still miss the fuck out of you. You made some mistakes in how you treated me, as I did with you. We are human.

Regardless, we had an out of this world connection - something you said yourself. You used to burst into tears telling me how much you loved me. You said nobody made you feel the way that I did. Everyone close to you said they had never seen you as happy as you were with me.

It feels like a part of me is missing, for 3 straight months. I still have happy moments which I’m very grateful for. But my baseline is feeling lost, empty, and sad beyond words. I can’t escape it. It’s all consuming. I just want you back in my fucking life and I would do anything to make that possible.

I used to want to cook for you. It is known that I have exquisite taste (after all, I wanted you, didn’t I?). Some compliment this acquired and refined characteristic of mine, others drag it. I don’t care. I like what I like. But you can bet there would have eventually been hand made pasta in your future had you wanted one with me. You could’ve relaxed, sat back, and done your thing while I made the dough and shapes in the kitchen, bt speaker on. A homemade sauce too of course.

I have to take that care. I have to take that care and turn it on myself now

Everything is different between you and me. Your voice is different. You speak slower. You speak softer. When we meet everything is suddenly quiet and still. Like the world is catching its breath.

You don't laugh in front of the others when I make a joke. Only when it's just us together. You don't want them to see. I noticed that. Everyone laughs but you. It's ok, I get it. It's the same reason you didn't hug me goodbye in front of everyone. You don't want them to know. You know something is just so, so different between me and you. And it has been for a while.

You're hiding it down too. I thought it was just me, but it's both of us. I see that clearly now. But I don't know for how much longer I can stay quiet.

Maybe I look calm. I'm not. Restrained. Barely. I'm one look away from expressing everything. Your funny comments don't make me laugh right now. I know they're cute and funny as anything. I'm not laughing. I'm not in a laughing mood anymore. I'm barely holding on.

The tension is going to break me.

I left work early today. Whenever I get annoyed about a lot of different smaller things in life, I always go back to considering you. That sounds negative, but it’s far from it.

You were one of the most gentlest times I’ve had in my life. We didn’t do anything of much importance, none of the romantics. All we did was enjoy each others presence. We talked, you looked at me and when you did? It looked like you loved me. I have never been loved in my life, but the warmth I feel at the thought of you is unmistakable.

I will always forgive you. Despite my emotions, or the hurt I have to sort through. I do that because I know deep down that you are worth it. I’m sorry for allowing the connection between us to become so toxic. I wish I would have left the first time it hurt. Or, I wish when you looked at me and mentioned feeling unlovable, I just told you that we could work on it together for you. One step at a time. However, I was young, naive, and head over heels for you.

I know this is supposed to be a nice letter, but I really do feel something in my chest when I close my eyes and think of you. I remember your face and the reason why we don’t contact each other is because, I will cry. But I am so grateful for you. I may not ever be able to go to college, but thank you for letting me believe in myself enough to work for it. I’m sorry.

I feel tired and I know being away for you is for the best. I feel happier. I can do more. I just wish you wanted both of us to be happy. I love you dude.

If there is another lifetime,

Don't meet me

I'd fall in love with you again

And it would hurt again

I‘m not really sure why I’m writing this to you.

I’d like to believe my actions and words have conveyed enough over the last 3 weeks.

We are both heavily traumatised individuals navigating a complex and unique situation in full battle suit armour. It’s probably a first for us both, our wounds mirrored so directly in another individual.

Trying to navigate this has been difficult, like two silent people trying to find each other in the dark, arms stretched, bumping into walls and stubbing toes.

I know we will eventually find each other, I’d like to believe we natively know one another enough to recognise the sounds and pace of our shuffling feet.

In any event, I know you’re scared, I am terrified too. But I know, with near certainty, when we eventually find one another, when we collide; I will give you my bloody, thrashing un-armoured heart.

You may think you are deeply flawed, that your silence is a crime that requires punishment. But little do you know, silence is my sanctuary, my respite, my home.

I can live in silence until you are willing to share my light, I am forever peaceful with the knowledge you are in my vicinity.

You are my rock, my moon. You keep my ocean anchored and calm. What we have created has stopped the devastation of my tsunamis in their tracks.

I can live with your steadfast stability and loyalty, we need not say words all the time, but the glances the light brushes against skin tell our story.

That even in the unorthodox and sometimes batshit crazy ways, we are choosing each other.

I will always choose you, you stop me being blinded by the uncomfortable sun rays in the world. Your subtle brave moonlight is enough.

You will always be enough.

Thank you for holding my pain, my fear and my strong adversarial character with gentle hands.

I will reciprocate in kind.

Yours,
Always.

maybe i understand myself better when i search for parts of me in other people

and maybe that’s what humans do

so let me find your favorite places

and the family members you’re most comfortable with

and let me learn your small habits and what you’re like when you forget you aren’t alone

and let me know your favorite smells

and what words you can’t pronounce

and what makes you stutter and stumble

and let me see your greatest joys

cause maybe mine could be seeing you

giggle the way only you do

sorry if it’s all too much

but i like myself more when we’re alone because seeing what it is that makes you so interesting helps me understand what i’m missing

so be my moon and i’ll be your ocean

so that someday i can finish this entry and

that you have just turned off your feelings for me. Even tho that is the way you act. I think if you were really done you wouldn’t respond to me at all. But here I am timidly trying to pry apart the armor. Will you let me again?

I will blame you if you don’t. Was I weak in going back? Probably. Have things changed for me and him? No, they never have before and never really expected them to this time. Not really. But I was lonely damnit.

You got me all worked up every time and for what? If you are truly as miserable as you say then why won’t you leave? I thought we were on the same page but were we even reading the same book?

You always say you refuse to chase.

That’s ok, you know it’s my nature to pursue.

I was okay today. For the first time in two weeks, I was actually fucking okay. Then your name appeared in my inbox. One ordinary email. Not even addressed to me, I was just copied on it.

And I fell apart. Because I have so much to tell you. I got the job. The pins finally arrived. Yours is sitting here, waiting for you. And your trip. God, I want to hear about your trip. I want to see every picture. I want to know how school is going. I want to hear about the stupid little things that happened today.

I want to know if you're happy. I want to know if you miss me. Fuck. Do you even miss me? Because I miss you so much I can barely fucking function. I still save the stupid holidays. I still see things and immediately think of telling you. I still have entire conversations with you in my head because I can't have them anywhere else.

And the worst part? I don't even know if I've lost you. How the fuck do you grieve someone who's still here? How do you stop reaching for someone when you don't know if they'll ever reach back? How do you prepare to lose your best friend when you haven't actually lost her yet?

I can't sleep. I barely eat. I was having a good day until six letters spelling your name appeared on my fucking phone. And suddenly everything hurt again.

I don't want a relationship. I don't want some grand romantic gesture. I want to tell you about my day. I want to hear about yours. I want to give you your pin. I want to laugh about something so fucking stupid that nobody else would understand. I want the friendship I didn't realize I could lose just by telling you the truth.

And I'm still collecting stories for you. Every day. Every stupid little thing. Every piece of good news. Every moment I catch myself thinking, I can't wait to tell her.

Then I remember.

And I wonder how many more stories I'll collect before I finally understand that you might never want to hear them. I'm not afraid of running out of things to tell you. I'm afraid I'll spend the rest of my life having things to tell you, and no longer being someone you want to hear them from.

Im not sure it was you, but it relates to a quote I sent a lil while ago. That was the sweetest freaking thing I've read in a long time. If that was you, I'm glad I could bring you warmth. I've spent so much time in the cold I kind of forgot how much I love smiling and laughing and supporting people. I used to make everyone laugh, talk about random topics endlessly, and I used to care. You were my test run to see if I could still be that guy, you felt safe. I fucking cried when I read that, it felt validating, like it's who I'm meant to be. I don't know where this goes, it's still a long road to get that back fully. I just know I can't show it from the safety of a screen anymore.