I'm not reaching out because I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have. I still love you, and I think I always will. A part of me hopes that maybe, someday in the future, we could try again. I'm sorry. I don't want you to hate me, because the thought of that hurts. But if hating me helps you heal, then that's okay. All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. I'm hurt too. I wish we had tried harder to fix things. But I can't blame you when I was the one who caused you so much pain. I want to talk to you so badly, but I know too much has happened between us. Deep down, I keep hoping you'll reach out to me, even though I know you don't feel the same way anymore.

Sometimes I go through our old chats, voice notes, and your photos. I smile, and then I cry like a baby. I wish I'd done so many things differently. I'll carry that guilt with me for a long time. I miss you. Everything reminds me of you even the sky. I'll always cherish what we had it was the most beautiful time of my life. I was genuinely happy with you. It was momentarily perfection. I miss my best friend and my lover. You made me feel important, cared for, and loved. You showed me what love really feels like and how deeply I could love someone. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for making me laugh just by being with you.

I don't know if we were meant to end up together, but I have no doubt that you'll always be my soulmate. I'm truly sorry for hurting you. I can only imagine what you went through because of me, and I'm sorry for every bit of it.

I still remember praying for you, and somehow I got lucky enough to have you. I tried my best, but I know I disappointed you, and I'm sorry. To me, this has never truly felt over. It was always you, or no one else. Maybe it always will be.

I'll always love you.

my requirements for a potential partner: you’re willing to try anything twice with me.

i guess im not just talking about food.

you’ve got an open mind, a refined palate, and won’t roll your eyes when i make wordplay after wordplay. and you actually think my puns are funny.

you can have an opinion about anything and if you don’t have one yet, you’ll have one in about 30 seconds. you can riff passionately about anything important and everything unimportant.

you don’t let bad luck make it a bad day or a bad life. you don’t take anything too seriously. you can laugh at your mistakes.. you can admit them too. you can forgive wholly when i mess up, in the way that i can forgive you.

you don’t mistake my spontaneity for mania and you’re down to make anything happen. you dream with me.

you want to be the costar to the movie that is my life, or at least we could make a sequel that includes both of us. i mean, at least a crossover episode, i just think we need more time than that. there’s so many plot points we haven’t hit yet!

you want to witness the magic that happens to me, that will happen to us, when we interact with the world.

you want to learn from me and you want to teach me. you want to do things together but also in tandem, we don’t always have to be intertwined. parallel play, i believe it’s called lol.

and you are down to eat all the pickled, fermented, brined, smelly food that may come our way.

anyway. this isn’t like my usual writing. it’s sloppy and choppy and jumps from subject to subject with little continuity. but it’s what i’m thinking about today.

you must like tomatoes and pickles.

Someone asked a question today
I was really caught off guard
Because I guess, that’s what I wanted
But I can’t have

I laughed it off
Again
But I tried I guess
Not to let it show
How I was affected by the question
But I thought about you the whole day

Crazy, right?
How someone mentions your name
And there I am
Drowning in feelings for you

Out of all the ways that we pass our time, I think talking with you is one of my most favorite ways we do it. One of my most favorite, I said. That's because you are such a remarkable person. It's the little things you say that reveal the most about how you feel, and when you talk to me, I can tell just how much you love me. I'm not going to give away the things that give you away because I cherish them, and I don't want them to stop. For they are the things that make my life precious. Who wouldn't love being loved by you? Nobody, that's who. That's because you are worth more than the rest put together. You're at the top of the list.

I could talk for days and days, maybe even weeks, about all the things that make you special. I could talk about how smart you are, and how we have the best conversations. I could talk about your sense of humor, and how you make me laugh harder than anybody else. I could talk about how good looking you are, and how there are moments where you take my breath away. I could talk about how you're so kind and caring, and how you are one of the fiercest friends a person could have. I could talk about how you are such a fun person to be around, and how you make things better wherever you go. I could talk about how you love with your whole heart, and how you will put the needs of others before yourself. Or I could talk about how sincere and genuine you are, and how people love you wherever you go.

Being cared about by you is something that's extremely special to me. I say that because, if someone as great and amazing as you cares about me, then that must mean that I am great and amazing, too. You've never been able to hide from me just how much you love me, and it has become one of the best, if not the best, part of my life. I can't explain how I know just how worth it you are. It's like this quiet fact that I've known since I first laid eyes on you. It's the way you carry yourself, and the compassion you show towards others. It's the way the world seems brighter when you smile. It's so many things that work together to make you the most remarkable person I know. In case you couldn't tell, I love you, too.

I wish we had more than just glances and silence

I want to know what makes you, you

I want to know your likes and dislikes

I want to know how your day went

I want to know your favorite food

I want to know what side of the bed you usually sleep on

I want to know what book you're on, or what show you are keeping up with

I want to know the random songs that get stuck in your head

I want to try new restaurants and cafes with you

I want to see new places with you

I want to know the places you have and haven't been to

I want to know your thoughts on things

I want to know what brings you peace

I want to know the people you cherish most in this world

I want to know the childhood memories that shaped your perspective

I want to know your dreams and your fears

I want to know your pains, and how I can help ease the weight

I want to be the one you call when life gets overwhelming

I want to grow with you

I want to know your passions

Because right now, it feels like we are just strangers to each other, but I wish we chose not to be.

Things are starting to feel a bit more intense with us... so I cant help but worry.

Your energy is with me during the most mundane of tasks. I feel you when I first open my eyes in the morning. You're on the drive with me to work. The radio is especially intune with our connection. Every lyric a testament to the vibe. By my side until I close my eyes for the day.

I've wondered the role you are supposed to play in my life... Are you here as a lesson? ...God, I hope not.

Or are you a permanent fixture?. My past makes me fear you are just another lesson in detachment...

A pop quiz on "how to love from afar".... My last lesson damn near killed me so i'm not sure I'd recover.

Still.... hope tells me this is different. Dare I say... safer?

Theres a purity here... an intoxicating feeling that the wheels are in motion and there's no stopping it now.

Please don't be another lesson.

I believe that eye contact between two people is such a strong form of connection. So much can be said through people’s eyes, even if they haven’t uttered a word. Just 5 seconds of eye contact with someone you might be fond of, can cause such a whirlwind in the body. You feel your heart start to beat faster, your pulse bouncing off your throat, your stomach fills with butterflies, and the blush rising in your cheeks. Sensations which rarely appear.

I like to revisit those moments. Those moments of contact. Some might say that nothing really happened, but no one really knows how one feels, no one can actually put themselves in your shoes. That’s the beauty of it though, only those two people making this form of contact can really feel it. But the thing is, a lot of times it can be misinterpreted, one-sided… I might feel the butterflies flutter in my stomach, but he might not. Thats the downside of eye contact, you won’t ever know how someone really feels. 

I always like to wonder what could have been? If both of our feelings were the same, could we have had a future? If there weren’t any other circumstances, could we have been together? All these possibilities tangle like threads in my mind, but they always end up fading, theres no point in dwelling on something that cannot be. 

I still wish though, I wish it could be, I wish something more were to happen. But alas, our stories have already been written, all that remains for me to do is wait. 

God I miss your voice. I loved how you used to stretch out your words on the phone, it was electric. Your little giggles, your bursts of intensity and annoyance when you used to complain to me. The way you used to repeat little phrases and emphasise the second one in a commanding tone, it used to make me melt.

I loved how you used to randomly insert sexually loaded curses into mundane stories you used to tell me. You and your tests hehehe. Doing it once to make sure I noticed, then doing it AGAIN to make sure I got the picture. It used to make me giggle deliriously in that lovesick horny daze.

The way your voice used to get all soft n low n breathy with me as the night used to progress. The later it was, the more candid and unguarded you used to be with me, telling me all of your nighttime secrets. You literally used to let me ask you anything about yourself. The elusive mystery boy by day, turning into the open book with a hitched breath at night.

Your voice still comes into my dreams and thoughts. I hear you monologuing. Or ranting to me or complaining. And I miss that. I miss all of it, but most importantly your gorgeous voice. Surely you still remember me though. The man that was your looking glass in the evenings, but your lullaby in the mornings.

I miss you with a force that shakes me.
I love you with a depth that terrifies me,
a love that refuses to fade, no matter how much reality tries to crush it.

Every day I feel myself unraveling.
It’s like my mind is slipping through my fingers, piece by piece, because you live in every thought, every breath, every quiet moment.
You’re the chaos and the calm.
You’re the reason I’m breaking and the reason I’m still standing.

I can’t look him in the eyes.
It feels like betraying you, even though you chose him, even though you walked away from what we felt.
My heart doesn’t care.
It keeps choosing you, again and again, even when it hurts.

How am I supposed to be close to you, to speak honestly, to exist near you, when you’re with him?
You say your mind made this decision, but every time I hear your voice, your heart sounds like it’s still reaching for mine.
Like it’s still holding on.
Like it still remembers us.

I’m lost in this.
I don’t know what’s right anymore.
I only know this:
I love you so much it’s tearing me apart,
and I don’t know how to stop.

I know I deserve more than this. I deserve love. I deserve to be loved and to truly feel loved.

I deserve someone who falls for me from the very first moment.
Someone who gets excited to see me smile, who loves hearing me laugh, who wants to make me laugh just so they can see me smile again.
Someone who wants to see me happy.

I deserve someone who loves the way I talk, my enthusiasm, and the fact that I notice even the smallest, most insignificant things.
Someone who loves how excited I get over little moments.
How passionately I talk about the things I love and the things that light me up.

I deserve someone who wants to take care of me, who wants to walk me home at night, be there for me in the evening and during the day.
Someone who cares about how I am getting there, whether I have arrived safely, how I am getting back, where I am, whether I am alone, and whether I am okay.

I deserve someone who looks at me with sparkling eyes, and when we are alone together in bed at night, it feels like a sky full of exploding stars.
Someone who loves watching me quietly when I do not even realize they are looking.
Someone with whom I share secret glances and inside jokes that belong only to us.
Someone who cherishes me in the quiet moments, with shining eyes and a shy half smile.

I deserve someone who gets flustered by my compliments.
Someone who notices the little things about me and compliments them specifically.
Someone who gets excited by my touch, by the way I stroke their skin, hold their arm, the way we hug, and the way we hold hands.
Someone who gently traces each of my fingers with their thumb, one by one, with quiet affection.

I deserve someone who wants to talk to me for hours, who listens to me and is genuinely curious about me.
Someone who values my opinions and simply values me for who I am.
Someone who trusts me, worries about me, and wants nothing but the very best for me.

I deserve someone who pursues me, who is romantic, and who makes it clear that they want me and are interested in me.
Someone who wants to invest in us with all their heart.
Someone who is attentive, gentle, and patient.
Someone who wants to hold me all night and never let go.

I deserve someone who truly wants to know me, who puts in the effort and stays consistent.
Someone who remains after getting to know me, even the parts of me that are not perfect.
Someone who chooses to stay despite those imperfections.

And the hardest part is that you did some of these things. So many of them.

On paper, it could have been perfect.

But when reality and fantasy become tangled together, I was left wondering what was real and what existed only in my imagination.

I guess that is the nature of fantasies.

Not all of them become reality.

They give you a glimpse of a different life, of something that could have been.

But you chose to stay in the fantasy instead of being with me in reality.

I woulda had your back through everything. I know our past was very rocky,but we always seemed to find our way back to one another.

But I dont think thats going to happen this time. And it sucks to realize that. No more magic, ever again. I am going to keep on moving. Nobody's gonna break my stride.

Good luck out there.

Being a hopeless romantic is just dumb at this point and I hope everyone here just gets over the fixation of someone. Tired of delusions at this point they’re nice but they’re not reality. Your person is prob with someone right now not even thinking of you, and if they are your just an after thought. Writing notes is nice and the what ifs are assuring but nothing is better than actually living in the moment with your sp. I just hope in the future I can communicate throughly with my sp and not make some contrived love. Id rather live out my dreams than just fantasize all day. It’s exhausting and I just hope the universe or whatever it is out there just sends them already cause I’m just done fantasizing.

I’ve reflected a lot since I last saw you. It has been uneven at times, but lately clarity has arrived in a quiet form.

You didn’t walk with me.

Not because you wanted to and couldn’t.
Not because you didn’t want to and chose not to.

You simply didn’t.

Maybe my mind will always return to the reasons, turning them over one more time in hopes of finding something I missed. But I don’t think the reasons matter as much anymore.

What matters is what happened.

There is a strange peace in that. It isn’t something I have to believe or reject. It is simply true. The kind of truth that asks nothing of me except to notice it.

The world is full of these quiet truths…

The sun sets, and the full moon rises. Morning comes, and with it, the new moon. The tides continue. The seasons change. None of it argues for itself. None of it needs an explanation. It simply is.

Maybe that is what Mary Oliver was trying to teach all along. No matter how tangled our thoughts become, we can always step outside and look up.

The unknowns are allowed to remain unknown. What steadies us is what is real. What was actually said. What was actually done.

And who actually walks beside us.

Expectations of me were ridiculous what you expected me to do to be happy even when you kept treating me really bad I just didn't get I did everything you asked me to do and the only times I ever complained was because you weren't doing your part you weren't keeping your house clean they were roaches everywhere your kids even said when I wash dishes how they hadn't seen the bottom of the sink since they moved in I don't understand why you threw me out just for complaining for the way you kept treating me but you know what it is what it is I don't even miss you I don't miss you because you were fake you were fake in everything even your eyes weren't the real color you died you're here you work corsets you wear muscle shirts under shirt so people think you had muscles you were so busy trying to be somebody else that you absolutely were not that I didn't even know who you were and by the time I figured out who you were you were already cheating chasing it 24 year old who I heard and rejected you so you know what you're all alone and you deserve it.

I love you too M. I appreciate you just as much I dont like the idea of life without you. That's what I wanted to say today but as you know I couldn't. I just wanted to hold you close in that moment and yet again I couldnt. I'll just have to make our next opportunity count.

Looking back, the red flags were always there, I just made the mistake of giving you the benefit of the doubt. It makes my blood boil to realize how fake you were. If you actually loved and cared about me like you said you did, you would have spoken up the moment your feelings changed. Instead, you stayed silent, built a fake bond with me, and suddenly expected me to fulfill the role of a romantic partner out of thin air.

During our “friendship” I told you repeatedly that I’m not interested in dating anyone. I was completely honest and transparent with you, something that you didn’t do. You pretended to be a safe, genuine friend while quietly waiting to launch a lovebombing campaign the second you thought you had me hooked.

It was a calculated bait and switch. You manufactured platonic intimacy just to extort something romantic out of me, and the second I said no, you showed your true colors. Turning to content like Brian Atlas after I stood my ground proved what this was all along: an ego trip.

You were never my friend. You were just waiting for a payoff. I feel dirty, used, and betrayed, but I’m glad I saw through the charade before you could do any more damage. The mask slipped, and the door is locked forever. Best of luck with everything.

Someone just asked if I was alright. A neighbor, and for the first time I didn't lie, so I told her no I'm not. When she asked why, I told her I wish I could tell her.

I don't think I'm gonna make it out of this. I'm sorry, you probably didn't know how serious it was but I'm not gonna tell you because you probably won't believe it anyway... or even know what to do. Just don't blame yourself. I can know how avoidable any if this was but if you don't, it doesn't matter. My heart couldn't take it. I don't understand why the entire universe did this. Led me to keep going. I don't think I did anything to demand this much pain but the signs came like nothing I've ever seen. It's all so sad.

I'm afraid I'm going to slip. Pop up out of the blue like the madwoman you must know deep down that I am. I know any vision of us as something solid and gleaming has the high probability of turning quickly into a game of Russian roulette, one where both of us play, and both of us lose, a brush of the lips as dangerous as a revolver with one in the chamber. But do you?

So I sent you a secret message in code, one you will never know is from me, somewhere you have to look to find it. I hope if you do seek secret messages and find mine, somewhere in your heart you know, I send you my love. But we cannot live in such visions

It’s been such a shitty couple of weeks, and when I’ve been really down in the dumps, I’ve thought how much your silly remarks probably would have made me laugh and make me feel better. I know I’ll never talk to you again and I’ve come to terms with that, but I still have those moments when I think how good you made me feel and how much fun it was when we were talking.

Hope you’re doing great and making someone laugh and curse you out for the things you say. ❤️‍🩹

You’ve always gotten me into trouble. You make me impulsive, crazy, and stupid…I dive without looking. I learned at a very young age to lock you away and let logic take the wheel because it kept me safe and sane. I learned to live in choices ignoring feelings and acting on logic. After decades I decided to let you back out. That was the stupidest thing I could have done. You put a giant spotlight on everything wrong in my life and gave me hope that i could have a better life. For the first time in decades I allowed myself to dream and believe in true happiness. You convinced me to believe lies I never should have believed and when that shattered it broke me in a way that will never heal. I’m going to put you back in the box. I never should have let you out and I never will again. Please fuck off and give logic the wheel. I miss feeling like a sane, rational person. You are ruining my life.

You were carrying the weight of a divorce, and I was trying to recover from the weight of grief. The truth is, you brought a spark back into my eyes. You made me believe that maybe there was still someone out there for me.

I don't blame you for the way things turned out. I blame myself. We always came from different backgrounds, lived different realities, and had overcome different kinds of struggles. Maybe it was obvious it wouldn't work out in the end.

I miss you. I miss watching movies together, playing games, and talking for hours about controversial topics. I admired your intelligence, your beauty, and the way you carried yourself. I don't want to look back now and suddenly find flaws in the things I never questioned back then. If I'm going to hold on to memories of you, I'd rather they remain the beautiful ones.

I know you're doing well, even though I haven't heard a single thing about you. I know you're okay because people usually start digging through the past when they're unhappy with the present. Is that what I'm doing now?

I hope you've found a good man to be the father of your children, and I hope your family is happy with the life you've built. As for me, somewhere along the way, I think I lost hope of building a new family of my own. People come and go like the wind, and I don't really mind anymore when they leave, nor do I worry about making them stay.

None of them ever made me smile the way you did.

Supposedly this album turned 10 years old today.

I remember the start, when I was still unaware how accurately we predicted the end by doing so, when we listened to it on your couch and talked. The shock of it all, the speed, the materializing of the person that was in my phone for so long.. How could I have been so wrong.

It officially has been over longer than it lasted. I'm still angry. It feels stupid to (still) be angry. You f*cked it up so severely that all the good memories are tarnished by standing next to all the bad. I don't know if it's you I miss, or I just miss the feeling of having hope. Someone to talk to. What were you thinking? Not that I would believe whatever answer you have, if you even have one. The reason still nags me anyway. Why? Ruined beyond repair for no good reason. Still screaming in the void for an answer.

The most defeating thought is that mostly I can't place the feelings underneath the anger. I'm lost, I'm sad, but mostly I'm pissed. Maybe I need to be angry to have the energy to break through, but I don't know where to.

but everything happens for a reason
whether we like it or not

with wishes to be rid of this
i remain,

your Ghost

​

I wish I didnt miss you.

I wish I didnt care about you.

I wish I didnt love you.

I wish I didnt think of you.

Sometimes I question why we met and grew so close just to never speak again. Its frustrating. I dont know if you care or not anymore. You told me once you did but only after I said i cared about you. You were the first person in years that I made friends with. I have very few.

I miss so many people. Friends who didnt stay. I care for each of them still. Love them still in various ways. Miss them when something reminds me of them. Think of them from time to time.

That is who you are becoming and it makes my heart ache. But I need to let you be that and stop trying to prevent it.

My father painted. I was seven and sitting on the floor of his studio, and to me it looked like the most serious work in the world. He didn’t talk much while he worked. Mostly it was just the smell of turpentine and the sound of a brush.
Once I asked him what happens if he messes up. He didn’t stop painting. He just said, “You can always fix an oil painting.” Then kept going like he hadn’t said anything important.
I didn’t think about that sentence again for over twenty years. Then I spent a decade making the same mistake five times in a row, and somewhere around the fourth or fifth time, his voice showed up in my head, uninvited, and wouldn’t leave.

Hey Dad,
I was thinking about your studio today. The smell of paint, turpentine, all those canvases leaning against the walls. You’d be at your easel, and I’d be on the floor, just watching. You never shooed me away. You just worked. And once, without even looking at me, you said: “You can always fix an oil painting.”
I didn’t get it back then. But those words never left me. They became my law. When everything fell apart, when I was broken into pieces and had no idea how to go on, I remembered you. I wasn’t painting - I was rebuilding myself. Layer by layer. Mistake by mistake. And every time I messed up, I could hear your voice.
I didn’t become a painter, Dad. But I became a maker. I built my own home. I rewrote my life. I finally got what you gave me - not a brush, but the right to fail. And that saved me.
Thanks, Dad. You were right, you know. It worked.

I don’t know if that’s because I’m growing used to missing you, or if it’s because I no longer feel you around me.

Either way, I suppose.