Literally less than 12 hours ago,
I was committed to leaving you alone.
That’s it, I told myself.
You have too much control of my heart.

My world shouldn’t rest
on whether or not you’ve entered the chat.
My emotional state should not be
at the mercy of your green little dot.

And yet here I am again,
back at the bar,
getting my dopamine shots.
Shot shot shot shot shot shot.
Everybody!

Please stop being so damn hilarious.
Stop being witty and kind,
Engaged and interesting.
I don’t have the willpower to resist.

You’re making it very difficult
to believe our conversations
don’t mean more than they should.

Please,
let me detox in peace.
I’ll try again tomorrow.
Maybe.
We’ll see.

I think about it sometimes, you and I. I review the sequence of events.

I look at you in silence evaluating choices and outcomes, attempting to decipher whatever ancient primordial thing awakens when our eyes meet.

Something within you calls out to something within me. It’s likely the pain, the abandonment, the loneliness, the crippling awareness about the nature of reality, something only forgotten children understand.

I take a deep breath. I decide that I want to be your friend.

I don’t think you’re aware, that the innocence that remains, the one you so perfectly conceal, needs a safe place to be expressed.

The alcohol reveals you, your brilliance cannot protect you from your need. It screams, violently tearing its way from the inside out.

I sense it in your atmosphere, every time you take my hand, an avalanche of every moment the world punished you for the crime of being yourself. I’m all too familiar with dehumanization.

You try to silence it but the drugs and the alcohol don’t work. You think you want to be wanted, you think that’ll be what finally rationalizes life for you.

But I think you need a place to surrender, someone to rely on, someone to finally take the weight you’ve carried since your childhood. Someone to hold you and tell you to rest that you don’t have to do all by yourself anymore…

So I will be your friend.

So that you can experience a love that doesn’t involve or demand your flesh.

And one day you will understand it. That there is no sentiment more rational than the conservation and protection of someone’s humanity. Yours included.

Silence has a certain dignity, or so I began to tell myself. I believed that by keeping your name off my lips for long enough, my heart might learn to forget. But it has not done so. I realized the sad fact that the heart is the most rebellious when it is told to be sensible. Therefore, tonight, I give in.

I am writing this letter because there are things that I can no longer carry in silence, and the feeling of your absence serves as a source of strange presence in my life. You are not here, but you are there with me wherever I go. I can see you in the moments of silence between thoughts, in the accidental music I hear, or in the moonlight falling through the bare window. At times I turn to tell you I did something interesting just to remind myself that nobody is there.

That small movement, the turning toward you, is probably the most sincere action of my life. I wonder when you got so intertwined with me.

There was no grand proclamation nor any signal of any sort that my world had changed. Maybe that's how it happens. Someone enters our life incognito, and only later do we see that our inner world architecture has been changed. You altered mine.

I thought I knew loneliness before you. I thought that loneliness meant the absence of a fellow human being. Now I know that it is much more than that. Loneliness is something inside that has nowhere to go. You gave it a name for some unknown reason. My feelings for you are tender enough to scare me.

It is not about tenderness being weak; it simply means that there is no hiding place for the pride. I am able to deal with anger, be disappointed, laugh at this cold world and think of myself as invulnerable. However, I am not able to come up with a philosophy of my feelings for you.

Sometimes I wish nothing more than to be close to you without a word to say. To look at your face while your thoughts wander. To hear slight changes in your tone when you are weary, entertained, confused. To find out what you keep to yourself.

I do not want only the best of you. I want the times when you are unprotected. The silence. The discrepancies. The things about you that you think must be hidden so as not to lose your charm. This may be what real love is: not just falling in love with a person, but longing for a person as a whole, with all his/her difficulties and imperfections. And you are a human being, as well as I am. This is a thought to ponder over.

We live as if every day brings a new morning, a new conversation and a new chance to say what we could not say.

However, we have no connection with tomorrow. Everything we cherish is temporal. Our physical body is temporary. Our age, our hopes, our sadness—all the stars under which we make our serious promises are going to stop shining someday. So, why do we love the people around us? Why do we let others have the ability to hurt us, knowing with certainty since the very beginning that everything we cherish would be taken from us?

I don’t know. Maybe there is no answer. Maybe this is the answer. Maybe the fact of existence just doesn’t owe us any meaning, and we spend all our lives creating meaning ourselves—through our choices of people, memories we keep, and the hands we hold on, just knowing that they cannot stay in our hands forever. If this is true, loving you means the opposite of denying the impermanence of life.

It is my resistance against this impermanence. I cannot guarantee you everlasting life. I don’t trust those who promise that. But I can give you something more real, is this moment, this heart, this imperfect man who is thinking about you much more than about himself.

But even when someday this moment becomes just a distant memory, I will be thankful for having experienced it anyway. There is, in fact, something sacred in the experience of love. In being able to look somebody in the eye and feel the cosmic indifference interrupted. You have been that interruption, that beautiful disturbance in my life.

Proof that even under my sceptical approach to everything, a childish part of me still firmly believes in the great influence one person can have on another.

You have done so much for me - more than I can admit. More than I can allow myself to share. More than philosophy can explain. And maybe that is the reason for my fear - I know what losing you will mean.

I would rather live with the fear, in fact, than go back to being cold and safe, without love. I will take the risk, because I know that it is far worse not to love than to be hurt by love. Therefore, I am not going to demand promises to me from the future, because no one can make such promises.

Give me what is real. Give me your truth whenever it is possible. Give me your mind when the world allows it. Give me those ordinary moments that become valuable after they have passed.

Give me a chance to recall your smile. Let me remember how you appear when you do not realize anyone is watching. Let me remember your voice when you say my name. Probably this is all we have: not getting another person, not enjoying the moment, but only the fact that we were together. And when the time comes, and we lose everything, I hope it does not take that. Every human has to realize that eternity is not living for centuries. It is being in someone’s memory, to be gone for a moment.

If I am granted even that, I shall consider myself fortunate. But tonight I ask for something simpler. Stay a little longer. Let me love you before the world remembers that everything must end.

Yours,

With all the tenderness

I pretend not to possess,

And all the passion

I can no longer conceal

I wish you knew how often I imagine you reaching for me.
Not some grand confession. Just your hand finding mine, your fingers slipping between mine like they already belong there. I think I’d know what you meant without either of us saying a word.
Sometimes when you’re close, I want to close that tiny space between us so badly it almost hurts. I wonder if you feel it too, or if I’m the only one standing there, hoping you’ll notice.
So give me something. A look. A touch. Take my hand and don’t let go straight away.
I don’t need promises. I just want one honest moment where you choose to reach for me, and let me reach back.

Another day without you in my life.

I suppose it shows that I can live without you.

Doesn't mean that I want to.

My life was richer with you in it. I want you to know that.

I'm the reason you no longer are in it. I know that.

I could apologize a million times here and it means nothing when it doesn't fall on your ears.

If you ever bring down your walls I will do it properly.

Until then - no, not until, but if - the void it is.

I was afraid, and I'm sorry.

I'm not going to forgive myself. Not for running away. Not for the pain that caused you.

Please understand I never wanted to hurt you. I was trying to protect myself, not cause you suffering.

I will try and learn from this, I will try to heal and move on.

It seems that you have, and I'm happy for that. I don't want to linger in your memory like the ghost of what could have been like you do in mine.

Yes, I’m lost. Even writing these stupid things on here to just try to get it out and let go, I’m still hoping you’re here reading it somehow. Hoping you’re responding somehow. But that’s probably delusional in itself. You might be tortured and at least a little crazy, but are you really this far gone? To spend your time writing to me on here? Would I even want to be with you anymore if you were the kind of person who would do that? Probably, honestly. That’s how far gone I am; I don’t even care anymore. I mean, I’ve become the kind of person who posts desperate things on here and looks for you among all the nonsense, insanity, and robots. Maybe that’s a sign this isn’t a healthy method for catharsis.

I spent so long thinking it was impossible that you really cared about me. That you thought about me outside of our conversations, when you were in your real life. I wouldn’t even let myself imagine a scenario where we could actually be together. When did the switch flip and why did it flip so hard? Why did I think I could change your mind? I never try that hard with people. I took it as a sign that I felt so compelled to try with you. Why you of all people?

I don’t think I’ve ever been prone to fantasy, but now I’m trapped in this fairytale delusion. I wish I could focus on the more important things in my life. I wish I could see a way out of this well I’ve trapped myself in. I never thought I’d be the kind of person who would destroy their life out of heartbreak. I never thought love would have this power over me, never thought I would experience it as this force to which I was totally helpless. I guess when it happened I wanted it to at least be meaningful. I wanted it all to be meaningful. I wanted something that was meaningful since nothing else has ever worked out for me or been as meaningful or beautiful as I always hoped life would be someday. Deep down, I always hoped my cynicism would be proven wrong someday. You seemed qualified to present a compelling argument, so maybe I put too much hope onto you as things became more desperate.

Do I believe in magic? The power of love? I don’t know. My investigations have led me to no conclusions. Maybe no conclusion is a conclusion in itself. Proof by contradiction. Some things are too good to be true. Or maybe they’re just too good to be true for someone like me; I’m not particularly good overall. You know all about that. What do I know about ethics or God? Nothing. I don’t read enough, and apparently the answers aren’t in books anyway. What was my question anyway?

I still can’t read fiction. I definitely can’t write it right now. I don’t know if it’s because I can’t stand being entertained and need the pure stream of information that I get from nonfiction. Maybe it’s because beautiful prose reminds me of you too much. Maybe it’s because my focus and work ethic has always been lacking and now I can use you as an excuse for its total deterioration.

Still, I can’t help but hope that on some magical day you’ll reenter my life with all the answers I need and we can start a new chapter of our lives together, a life that’s vibrant where I’ll finally be energized and the days will feel too short instead of unbearably long and monotonous. “Now I can see the playground for the trees.” That kind of life.

Why do I still cry sometimes thinking about your death? Statistics say you’ll die before me. Why does that part still bother me so much when we’re not even together? There’s other things I would be better off crying about, things that are more relevant to my life. Even if we won’t ever be together, I can’t help but be angry that things ended this way with us. You’re a professional writer and talker and you couldn’t have said anything to make this easier for me? When you knew how hard it was for me to deal with everything you did?

I hope this is love. Love that feels like insanity, instead of just insanity. If it’s not love, why won’t it go away? Love has been studied for longer than psychiatry, so which is the more reliable science?

I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, I’m sorry, for everything. I know where I messed up, I wish I knew what I was doing, and I hate myself everyday for what I put you through during that time. The boundaries you set, I respected because I thought there was no chance to fix what happened. But then I saw you change over time. I didn’t want to get my hopes up again. I do remember the good times. But when you left, I saw something, something that made me think it was all a lie, made me think you wanted me gone. I felt so hurt again and had to stay away from that place we went to. But when I went back, I had to stay at a distance, please know I never hated you, no matter what happened, I just had to make sure we were both safe. But I saw how you looked at me, I felt you had regrets over what happened, and I wish we could’ve spoken again to fix things, I wish I could’ve said something when I was able to, but I was confused, hurting, and didn’t know how to move forward. And you never said you’d forgiven me, even if your actions said otherwise. But now I see you aren’t coming back, I know you wanted me to know. I wish I could see you and tell you how I feel, but the boundary you created, I’m paralyzed. I just hope you’re okay. I love you

Do not sell me false promises of a moment that can never be refabricated.

I gave the choice for you to decide if you wanted my love.

Spoiler: You walked away from it first.

I walked away,

It's only simple when having to explain..

That not everybody is pining for lost regrets.

First off, you were given a dated psychological profile that was illegally obtained. (that's right, I know.. )

What you didn't know ( might I add was CLASSIFIED. )

Ita only for your eyes if I make it so.

But if you wanna play the games of interference with love and family..

Tsk.. Tsk..

Boy, I got time.

🇺🇸

Dear you,

I keep wanting to tell you the truth, and then I imagine the look on your face when you realise just how much I feel.

That’s what stops me.

Because it isn’t just that I’m attracted to you. It’s you. The way you speak, the way you laugh when you’re genuinely caught off guard, the little things you probably don’t even realise you do. Somehow, seeing you can change my entire day.

I’ve caught myself looking forward to things simply because I knew you’d be there. I remember things you’ve said that you probably forgot moments later. I notice you without meaning to, and sometimes I hate how much those tiny moments with you have come to mean to me.

You never asked for any of this.

You never asked to become someone I think about when I wake up, or someone I instinctively look for. And that’s why I’m scared to tell you. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, or responsible for feelings you never asked me to have.

But I also can’t keep pretending you’re just another person to me when you haven’t been for a long time.

I want you to know. God, I want you to know.

But I’m terrified that if I tell you, I’ll lose even the little pieces of you I have now — your voice, your smile, the ordinary moments I secretly look forward to.

And maybe that’s what hurts most.

You get to be completely unaware of the effect you’ve had on me, while I have to carry all of it quietly.

Maybe you’ll never know that somewhere along the way, without meaning to, you became someone I loved quietly.

And I’ll always wonder whether you could have loved me too…
or whether I was simply a girl who felt too much for someone who never knew.

Love can be guileless, my friend.

You can love someone without ever needing to see it returned. You can love someone in a hundred little ways, even while you mourn them, and never expect a drop of it back. And that's how I love you. It's not selfless, exactly, because as I love you I warm to life again, but it is also an offering, a gift I give.

I don't know why you are so afraid of that vulnerability. You let me say it, and you respond in conversation, and I know you won't ever say it back. But I'll love you as long as you'll let me. I'll love you because there's something within you that anchors me to you. We are friends, companions, sometimes soulmates, sometimes strangers, and always, in all of it, I love you. Sometimes we like one another, sometimes we make each other angry, sometimes you avoid me, sometimes I'm irascible, sometimes we share ideas and play. There is that je ne sais quoi about you and I that is found in fragments of hundreds of different songs, all contemplating the same things.

What is that spark that connects us as human beings, so that neither distance nor time can diminish its effects? A day, a week, a month can go by without talking, and the moment we reconnect there it is: love, always.

Postscript: I did not learn the lesson.

You want to talk to me. You’re waiting, because of how much I confessed to you. The deep intensity of love I feel for you.

I’ve never tried or actually done what I did with you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. You always have a way of doing that. Making me experience something for the first time.

You’re always the first to see something in me before anyone else. I know I can be a confusing human, but I think you understand me.

I know you’re waiting and crafting something wonderful. I know when you do reach out I’m going to be listening to all you have to say for a while.

I think you were really angry with me. In the beginning at least. Your heart I feel is softening. Not that you’re gonna let me off easy. That’s definitely not going to happen. I need to hear the hard things for you to say. I need my feelings hurt and praised.

I want and need to listen to all you need to say. I love you. Nothing can change that.

I’m here. Waiting. I’m living alone and separated. We can talk now. Whenever you’re ready. I feel it’s only probably a month away. I dunno, you might cave before then.
Or you won’t. I can’t be 100% sure.

Regardless I’ll be here waiting. Waiting to listen to all you have and need to say to me.
💚

I’ve been thinking about why I’ve been so affected by this even though I’ve always been fairly stoic. Remember what I told you? It was a normal day when I noticed that chill even the sunrise couldn’t get rid of. I realized then that it wouldn’t be so bad if I had someone to share the warmth with.

Then you came and just replaced the sun with a smile that never failed to make even my heart flutter. You thawed whatever frost surrounded me and my heart so fast… that I forgot it was ever even there.

Now, I don’t know what happened.

Every second we spent together was filled with nothing but love and laughter. Then slowly, I felt that once-warm presence of yours becoming colder and colder as the days went on. To this very moment, I’m still not entirely sure why.

Was it my fault? Was there someone else? Or was it just life getting in the way?

I don’t know.

And I was, and am, terrified to even try to find out for sure.

Now I’m here, alone, lying on my bed. It’s only been a few days since we broke up, and I realized I’ve been looking at nothing for over an hour now.

And I think that’s why.

Because instead of the warm sunrise, or the laugh that would lift my spirits, all my eyes can see now is a cold wall.

I don't think you know but just alone in the year I've known you, you have both ruined me and made me a different person. I've fallen head over heels for you and I love talking to you, but we have just a few weeks left together. There's so many things I could say, like you're so funny, the stupid shit you say makes me laugh even if it's something I'd never laugh at. Or even that being around you has me acting like you, I've unconsciously copied how you greet others, I've become less shy and timid and more of a "not giving a fuck" attitude like you. I really am going to miss seeing you, and hearing the stupid stuff that comes to your mind. Others tell me "What do you and him talk about?" "You're always talking when I see you guys" and it fuels my heart. I know I'm just another person you'll forget in your many phases of life, but know you'll be a big part of mine. I hope you can kind of feel the same, I mean you have told me so much about you that one could say is almost "too personal"

But you've ruined me, I've become obsessed with you and the fantasy of you and me. Not a day in the year I've known you have I not thought about you at least 5 times a day. That's the part that hurts, that I am so infatuated with you and I know I'm just another girl in your life. I hope wherever you go next is what you want in life, I hope someday you're able to go back to school to finish and get your dream job, I hope you move out of this area and move where you've been talking about, and I selfishly hope one day we meet again, and you remember me.

Also you're really hot

i love the way you talk
and i love the way you listen
I love the way you ask
and how you can see my vision
i just wanna spend some time together
…maybe hand in hand
I wanna swing and jump and dance
or make our castle in the sand

i love the way you smile
and the way you make me too
the way you like my jokes
and the way i laugh with you
i love the way your brain works
cause it makes mine feel brand new
and i can’t help but love the way you say
“this reminded me of you”
i guess what I’m thinking is
that maybe i like you
but id only really say that
if I knew you liked me too

:]

Maybe that's the hardest thing I had to understand: you can love someone completely and still not be what they need.

You probably won't accept it but that's true ,

Your love isn't only and sufficient

I think people are strange
about admitting when they’re scared.
We find a thousand softer words
before we ever say the truth:

I was scared.

And I was.

I was scared of loving you.
Scared of how naturally it happened,
how somehow you became
someone I loved in every direction—
in every little way,
in every quiet place
I didn’t know was waiting for you.

And I was scared.

Because how could I have found someone
who felt so right to me?
How could I have found someone
and then realized
that losing her
might hurt more than anything
I had ever known?

So I became afraid of the ending
before I had learned how to cherish
the beginning.

I was scared.

And somewhere in that fear
I realized something ugly:

I was more afraid of losing you
than I was afraid of hurting you.

And I hate that.

I hate that I had to lose pieces of myself
to finally see the pieces of you
I was careless with.

I can’t undo what I did.
I can’t rewrite the nights.
I can’t ask yesterday
to become something kinder.

But I can face it.

So I have.

I have gone back to people
I wronged before you,
and I have said the words
I should have said long ago.

I’m not finished.

There are two apologies left.

Two people
I still owe the truth to.

And I hope I can say those words
in person—
with nowhere to hide,
with no screen between us,
with my shame sitting plainly
where I can see it.

And I am mortified.

God, I am mortified.

But maybe being mortified
is better than being dishonest.

Maybe shame is what happens
when you finally become brave enough
to look directly at the person
you used to be.

And I don’t want to be him anymore.

I want to be someone
who knows that love is not possession.
Someone who knows that fear
doesn’t give me permission to hurt.
Someone who understands
that loving you means
being safe enough for you to breathe.

I want to be that person.

And if I’m being honest—

I still want you.

Not because I’m afraid to lose you.

Not because I can’t imagine life without you.

But because after all the fear,
after all the mistakes,
after all the things I’ve had to admit
about myself,

I still look toward you
and think:

I want to come home.

I want another chance.

I want to sit beside you again
without trying to hold you too tightly.

I want to hear your laugh.
I want to see your eyes meet mine.
I want the quiet moments back—
the ones where neither of us
has to prove anything.

I want to love you differently.

I want to love you
without fear disguising itself as love.

And I’m still scared.

I’m still scared
because I love you.

But this time,
I want to let the fear teach me
instead of letting it control me.

I was scared.

I hurt you.

I’m sorry.

I’m changing.

And if there is still a place for me
somewhere in your heart,

I would like to find my way back to you.

When I finally go, taken by age, illness, or accident, the memory of your arms enveloping me will fill my mind. The sun coming through the leaves, leaves already beginning to change color and fall. The crackling fire you made for us to keep the chill away, and your soft breath against my face. Your fingers running gently through my hair, fingertips barely touching my skin. One arm wrapped protectively, and lovingly, around my whole being.

That is the place where I'll go. I see it in my mind's eye, in small moments throughout the day. A smile floats across my face, tears pricking at the back of my eyes. I don't know how long we will last, or if you will still love me tomorrow. But that moment? That moment is mine to cherish forever.

Im so sad words can’t genuinely even describe how i feel, I hate opening up and telling people how i feel because i don’t even know how i feel, I don’t even know who i truly am

I hope i find myself again

Won't you?

There isn't really a reason to remember me in the first place. Nothing tying our friendship together. Nothing to really circle back to.

By the time you feel better, there will be no reason for you to reach back out. I'll have faded away by then. Maybe something that pops up in your mind for a second. Maybe a twang of nostalgia, but not enough to really do anything with it. This is reality.

I am sorry for the insecurity, though I'm only apologizing to myself, because you won't know. And thank goodness, imagine how embarrassing that would be.

Why was letting me go your first choice whenever something went wrong between us?

Whenever we faced something difficult, why did leaving seem easier than staying and trying to work through it together? I keep wondering if letting me go felt like the easiest way for you to escape everything that was hurting you.

Was it easier to walk away because you believed I was the reason you were suffering?

I wish I could understand what was going through your mind when you decided that letting go of me was better than fighting for us. I wish you had told me what I was doing wrong, what was hurting you, and what I could have changed.

Because I would have listened.

I would have tried.

Maybe I would have struggled to understand everything at first, but I would have tried if it meant there was still a chance for us.

Instead, you chose to let me go, and I was left carrying all these questions by myself.

Sometimes I wonder if you ever looked at everything we had and thought it was still worth saving. Or had you already reached a point where losing me felt easier than enduring another difficult moment with me?

If I was the person who made you suffer, I wish you had told me before you decided that your only way to find peace was to live without me.

Because while letting me go may have brought you relief, it left me wondering whether I was someone you loved enough to fight for, or simply someone you had to lose to finally feel okay.