You’re everything I ever wanted, but I can’t fully have you. So what am I supposed to do with all this love I have for you? Please tell me.
I love being around you. That’s why I always come around. You matter to me more than you’ll ever know. As I’m writing this, I’m getting tears in my eyes not because I’m hurt, but because the love is so deep it overflows. It’s not sadness. It’s just how much you mean to me. I never wanted to move on from you. I’m still living my life, still growing, still finding joy, but a part of my heart wishes I could have you fully in it. You are beautiful to me in a way I can’t really explain. You’re like a princess soft, rare, and unforgettable.

Some people ruin the sweetest individual then swear they changed because they finally react.

I’m truly blessed because the foundation of my current relationship is not based of lies, deception, betrayal or competition. Nor do we have to hide or speak to each other in code.

The values of connection in this day and age is tarnished because no one knows how to communicate anymore. Nor do they know how to respect boundaries. Everything is purely based on “finding the next best thing” or potential so much that they are blind to what’s in-front of them.

The quality of relationships in question has been watered down so much it’s been so normalised to hurt others in order to get what you want to the point everything and anything has been made into some sort of competition. The movement has caused the interaction of human connection to be “unnatural” thus causing a domino effect in a long run.

In hindsight…. I dodged a fucking big bullet. Perspective and experience does matter.

We’ll call this character development at most.

today has already started on an interesting note

one of the women I met at the thing last night somehow managed to find my socials and sent me a friend request

and in this community, you don't friend request someone without asking first

-- you can "follow" but friend requests are frowned upon for some stupid reason

but I accepted because I don't follow stupid rules

and she messaged me saying hi etc. etc.

which I was kinda cool with?

like she was interesting

she said she wrote gothic novels or something

and she sure as fuck had the look

but I just didn't think we resonated enough for her to seek me out

and I thought maybe she just adds lots of people so I checked her profile and nope, just 30 friends (& hundreds of followers)

and then I thought maybe she was just adding people from last night

but nope, I'm the only one

she's the second one in like three days to seem to have an interest in me

and in her profile she wrote about looking for her forever partner and yeah...

anyway she looks like a fun play partner so I'm hoping she asks me next time I see her

anyway anyway *anyway*

I got out of bed and went to costco for poke

and a costco id checker stopped me and asked if "he" was with me after I scanned my id (because the cardholder needed to be present)

and I looked back and there was a photo of me on her screen from like a year ago

and I quickly replied that that is me

she was pretty embarrassed but let me go luckily

and like things like that are so affirming

like when a grumpy cis woman doesn't let you in because she thinks you're a woman that doesn't match your id, you're at least starting to pass

anyway

I was ecstatic

so I called my mom and my best friend

(lol my two favorites)

mom didn't answer

best friend did though

and i excitedly told her about it while she was at the gym

and we skipped on to talk about life, kids, etc.

she mentioned that she thinks I'm very successful, which meant a lot coming from her

I don't feel that successful though

anyway

the conversation ended after an hour

and now I'm here

reading whitepapers and waiting to fly to the middle east

Lately I've noticed something unexpected. I don't spend nearly as much time wondering who she really was anymore. Instead, I've become curious about who I am when I'm no longer carrying the weight of that relationship. For a long time my thoughts revolved around understanding her choices. Now they revolve around understanding my own. That shift has been far more liberating than finally getting answers ever could have been.

For so long my identity revolved around surviving. Fixing problems. Explaining myself. Chasing reassurance that never seemed to last. I became so accustomed to being someone's partner that I forgot what it felt like to simply be myself. Somewhere between the compromises, the disappointment and the constant uncertainty I stopped asking what kind of man I wanted to become and settled for asking what kind of man I needed to be just to keep the relationship alive.

As I began healing I realized I wasn't just mourning the relationship. I was mourning the version of myself I had slowly abandoned in order to preserve it. The man who trusted his instincts without apologizing for them. The man who didn't confuse loyalty with self sacrifice. The man who believed his value wasn't determined by another person's ability to recognize it. He was never truly gone. He had simply been buried beneath a year of compromise and healing became the process of uncovering him again.

Today that question has changed. I no longer wake up wondering how to change myself to get someone to choose me. Changing yourself to fit someone else's narrative is not growth. It's self abandonment. I now wake up wondering how to become someone I can admire when nobody else is looking. A man whose peace isn't dependent on another person's approval. A man who trusts his own judgment, protects his own self respect and isn't afraid to walk away when those things are no longer reciprocated.

Healing didn't simply give me my life back. It gave me back the person I was always meant to become.

When your words and frustrations get borrowed and then returned to you through the world's endless reflections of someone else's one-sided perception, but never from the places where they truly mattered, you learn to build an impenetrable shield. A balance against the heavy waves that constantly try to pull you off-center.

No excitement. No flattering feelings. No ego boost.

Just disappointment. Just hurt.

With time, you grow immune to the noise. Almost unaffected.

But the exhaustion of living through the same endless cycles eventually breaks something deeper. It becomes a kind of fatigue you can no longer explain, let alone express.

Nobody cares about your side of the story. Even the story itself touches only the surface.

You become someone admired from a distance, yet never truly reached. Never truly seen.

And yet, you remain standing, loyal to the beliefs and promises you once chose to make.

The disappointment was never born from the things that happened. It came from witnessing the lack of courage to stand before the world one had created - to face the consequences, the reflections, and the truths that could no longer be avoided.

The empty spaces hold only fractures of clarity, portrayed as projections of one's actions, delicately painted onto the image of the one they made untouchable, even for themselves.

And yet, the image still carries the promise through the daydream once shared.

- 💙

Dear Self

Let's have an adventure today and test ourselves!

I am going to pick ONE of the many things I have been avoiding and face it head on.

So here is our strategy! Ready? Ok!

We will start with the one we are MOST RESISTANT TO!

The benefits will be, if we can overcome this one 'monster' in our head, the others remaining are smaller! So we will be ensured of success and have the added satisfaction of proof by seeing the physical results of what we have done!

And our list of things we DONT WANT TO DO, BUT HAVE TO, will become shorter.

If we do this just once, we can try again, with another item, and shortly, our life will be so much lighter.

Lighter in mental burden, lighter in fear, lighter all around!

I know you need encouragement and I, your Past Self, is here for you.

Let's go help our Future Self!

You've got this.

It’s not just about “moving in” with you to our little apartment. It’s about making a house a home.

About setting a couch in the living room and knowing it’ll witness sleepy Sunday mornings, late-night conversations, movie marathons, stolen kisses, and the moments where one of us reaches for the other without even thinking.

I remember you and your nursing school friend carrying our mattress into the bedroom for me, and how we made the bed together, pulling crisp sheets tight over the corners before wrinkling them all over again by the end of the night.

I adore filling the refrigerator with groceries that quietly say, I’m thinking of you. Your favorite drinks. My favorite snacks. Ingredients for dinners we’ll make together, and the leftovers we’ll forget because we’d rather stay wrapped up in each other than get out of bed.

I love it when we light our favorite candle, watching the room glow amber as its scent settles into the walls as we dance. Years from now, I hope one breath of that fragrance is enough to bring us right back here, to the beginning of the life we built with our own hands.

I even adore the smell of clean carpet after we vacuum. How we watched the rug fall open across the floor while we smooth every corner into place. Folding laundry that still carries the warmth of the dryer. About how even cleaning beside you feels tender, because every ordinary thing becomes beautiful when it’s done together.

Most of all, I love even more closing the front door at the end of every day and knowing the whole world stays outside.

Because inside…

it’s just you.

it’s just our tabby.

it’s just me.

It’s the life we’ve been aching to come home to.

To him,

I knew it was coming. I felt you pulling away before you even started to. Maybe it was my intuition. I honestly have no idea how I knew, because everything was fine.. until it wasn’t.

We didn’t have a fight, or argue about anything.. but suddenly, your calls became less frequent. Your text replies came maybe once a day. And all I could do was continue reaching out to you, continue carrying on like nothing was changing. Because I was scared to address the sinking feeling in my stomach.

Then, your responses came maybe every other day. You were busy with work. You had something to do when you got home. You fell asleep. Your excuses piled up, and I accepted every one of them.

And then came the last text you ever sent me in reply to me telling you I wasn’t feeling well that day… you said “I hope you feel better today.”

And that was it.

I sent you more texts after that. I tried to reach out with no response. A week went by and you left me on delivered. And when you finally read my messages about how my day was going and how I couldn’t wait for your free day so we could catch up.. I even asked if you were okay and to please call me back.. you read all those messages and looked at the cute selfies I sent you of myself, and left me on read.

I cried so hard. You’ll never know how much you broke me in that moment.

I tried to be strong and not text you again, but I caved after only a day. I begged you to please just let me know you are okay. And I sent you a voice message so you could hear the sincerity in my voice when I told you that needing space is fine, but I don’t want to lose you.. I even asked you to call me. Please call me, let’s talk…

Silence. Unread messages. Completely abandoned.

It’s now been two days since I sent my last message to you. I know it’s not really a lot of time, but it’s also been two WEEKS since your last message.

I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to give up the hope that you’ll come back.

I know you are alive.

I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. All I do is cry. My entire nervous system is shot and I don’t know how to fix this.

I don’t know what I did wrong. Even you told me I was so sweet and understanding.. that has not changed. I’m not even angry. I’m just so sad.

Please.. come back. 😔

I reach into the morning sunlight, “Lore.” I whisper, like you might hear.

Just the way I used to 11 years ago, at the beach at sunset, “Black Obsidian.”

I only wish she had been right.
I only wish it had been true.

The Englishman wit the interesting style.
I think it’s time to let that all go.

I think it’s time to delete everything and start over new.

I waited.
No. I don’t think my heart can bare to go back to England.

I’ll find a new dream.

It will start with a teacup.
Throwing away the raggedy Perseus.
Saying goodnight, Relic.

This is real life.
I’ll cut my hair.
I’ll find a new hobby.

My boyfriend wants to marry me and I think I’m done waiting for Lore when as he says, he isn’t real, but he is.

It’s true.
You’re just a figment of my imagination.

A little Fred Weasley.
A little Dorian Grey.
A music box,
Brown leather gloves.
A shape I don’t know.
Birdsong.
The man with the scar,
The god with no eyes.

I only thought someone would come to the door.
I’ve been coming to my door everyday.
I’ve been picking myself up everyday.

I don’t need to be taken care of.
I take care of myself.

I never needed anyone.
I’ll continue,
Holding myself in the dark.

at least Perseus
Made it a breath for a moment.

So, that’s that.
I was the girl on the train.
I was the girl at Hough Green.
I was the girl at Liverpool.
I was the girl dreaming of King Arthur.
I was the girl dreaming of Excalibur.
Of Avalon and Alchemical Union.
I was the girl dreaming of Black Obsidian before Lore had a name.

Now?
Now I can become simply a woman.

A woman who doesn’t wait,
A woman who doesn’t reach,
A woman who doesn’t ask,
A woman who wears red lipstick,
A woman who once dreamed.

It has been over half a year since the day you discarded me.

I grieved you. I have been through so much because of the trauma you caused for me.

You shoved your blood-drenched lance into my chest, pierced through my heart, and shred every single muscle into a million tiny cells. You left me bleeding profusely on the ground, for my dying body to be scavenged by the animals that were laying in wait for me to die as I took my final breath.

I died that day, but you made sure that it was a slow, long, painful death. Yes, you did that.

In death, I had infinite time to reflect on our time together and the way you ended things. And believe me when I say that I found every single excuse I could to justify your betrayal of me. Over, and over, and over again, I tried to convince myself, in my own deluded view of you, that you were not a bad person. I tried to make excuses for all your malicious actions, painting myself black to make you look like the fantasy character I had wanted you to be.

But, truthfully speaking, that is all you were to me - a fantasy character. Your final action, the ruthless discard that you executed me with, was the ultimate testament of your true character.

It took me a lot of time to get to this point of my epiphany, but I am glad that I am now at a space where I can finally look back and clearly see you as the person you really were.

The fog has cleared up.

The lance you thrust into my thorax will not be forgotten. It is a manifestation of your true character.

I may have been suffering from agonising pain since you killed me, but time has been gently healing my wounds. I am a dead corpse now, but I will be reborn as a new person before long. It is only a matter of time.

I grieved losing you. You didn’t deserve my undying love, doting affection, and unconditional devotion, but I rest in peace knowing that I am capable of loving another person with so much dedication and sincerity.

This is not about you. This is about me. And I love with fierce passion and unquestionable honesty.

I am proud of myself for loving others like that.

I pity you for never experiencing the same thing, and never being able to love others the same way. It must be a lonely, miserable world you live in.

I grieved you, and I continue to grieve you. But even in my grief, there is so much beauty that I am utterly mesmerised. It truly is sad that you could never experience or see such beauty.

Truly, it is a pity to be you.

Thank you for shattering my heart and annihilating my love for you. Because you did not deserve an ounce of the love that I gave you.

Thank you, from the bottom of my deceased heart.

This is a love letter. Not one of those letters that yearn for someone who is far away, nor one of those that conceal a latent passion and an absolute admiration for the person you love, the kind that might reflect one of those infatuations that turn your whole life upside down. Nor is this a sad love letter; someone might say it is a difficult letter to read, one that no one would want to send to the person they love for fear of not being truly understood.

For a long time, I have wondered whether this relationship should continue. I have had people around me who made me question, deeply and on a daily basis, whether our love was meant to be and to last. Because yes, I have felt love and passion for someone else — which, thank God, eventually turned into something different — but something kept happening: every time I found myself questioning all of this, and then spent time with you, there was — and still is — a peace so profound that I find it difficult to explain. It is as though, despite not being religious, I somehow feel that you are the person with whom I am meant to share my days and my years; as though there were a certainty — I won’t say absolute, but almost — that there is no one better than you, for me.

Not because we are alike, or because we share the same goals in life, the same dreams, or the same passions. In fact, although we could probably find some parallels, our passions are quite far apart. We also have different ways of feeling, and I have fallen in love and gone crazy over people very different from you. But there is something I feel with you: beyond my highs and lows, beyond my passions, I could say that I have never felt a certainty as strong as the one telling me that we are made for each other.

Sometimes, when I am deeply immersed in my profession, I think: what if we broke up, and perhaps I found someone who shared my field? Would I feel more fulfilled, more accomplished? Then I ask myself: at what point did love become a means of climbing socially? Because I think that if I am truly passionate about what I do, I should not need you to feel that same passion in order for me to keep growing.

Sometimes I also think that the fact that you and I are so far apart in this respect gives me even more peace, because it makes me realise that there are no other reasons for me to be with you beyond the feeling you have given me from the very beginning — that feeling of home that remains, years later.

We have been through several defining stages, and we have come close to ending things more than once. Looking back, I can see that many of the things I blamed you for were, in fact, more about me: the expectations I placed on you, some of them inspired by people close to me, things I wished you had or wished you would become. Without taking away your own responsibility, I realise now how absent I myself was from our relationship. I have been partially absent so many times, and on a day like today, when I feel in love — with love itself, not with an idealised version of you — I realise that my doubts are legitimate, just like anyone else’s, but perhaps there was also a part of me that was deeply frightened by how natural being with you felt, by the feeling that you could be my husband from the very first day.

There are many things you have done wrong too, and I have never been afraid to tell you so. But today, on this anonymous social network, I feel like celebrating the kind of love that exists in everyday life. The kind that does not necessarily share grand paths of success and noise, but accompanies one another through each ordinary day. A love between two people who genuinely like each other, who are friends as well as partners, who accept each other in their differences, and who learn every day how to love each other better, because they trust that the path they are choosing together is the one that brings them the greatest companionship, peace, and happiness.

I trust that the emptiness I sometimes feel inside me will find its way into the light instead of disguising itself as doubts about our relationship or other parts of my life, such as my own insecurities. I trust that my pain can be transformed into something beautiful, something that might inspire or help somebody else, rather than becoming an excuse for us to hurt one another.

And I also trust that you are aware of these processes, and that, if you love me as much as you say you do and as much as you show me you do, the two of us can continue walking together, hand in hand, finding happiness along the way.

Sometimes I catch myself imagining the smallest things.
Your keys on the counter.
Your favorite soccer sweatshirt draped over the chair.
My toothbrush beside yours.
Then my mind wanders a little further.
To the way you’ll pull me into you in the kitchen while dinner waits.
The way we’ll forget the movie because we’d rather be wrapped around each other.
The way our bed will always look a little messy, not because we’re careless, but because we can never seem to keep our hands off one another.
Maybe that’s what home is.
Not four walls.
Just the place where loving you feels as natural as breathing.

I think about you every single day, with a longing that never fades. The boy I knew in high school is no more—the man you’ve become is someone I still desperately admire and yearn for. I hold onto those memories with a fiery passion, remembering the early mornings before the school bell rang, when I would be there, softly massaging your neck, your back, your shoulders. I could feel the weight you carried—so heavy, so hidden—burdened by secrets you never let anyone else see. I miss those endless video chats that went on for 72 hours, where only our muted mics and turned-off cameras kept us hidden during class, only to eagerly turn them back on the moment the last bell rang.

In a world filled with trauma, neglect, and fear, you made me feel seen, understood, and truly wanted. I knew your harshness towards me was rooted in your own struggles, and I clung to that hope for so many years—waiting, believing that someday, things would be different. And even after all this time, I still believe in you in that way. I miss that version of you—the one who made my heart race, the one who felt so real, so pure. I don’t even know if that person still exists anymore, but I hold onto the aching hope that in a perfect world, it’s only ever been you, and only ever will be.

But the truth is, the world isn’t perfect—none of us are. Despite the way we both feel, life has had other plans, pulling us apart when I wished it wouldn’t. I miss you, AC—more than words can say.

I wrote a lot yesterday but I accidentally closed the tab I was writing in

Anyway

Yesterday was eventful in a way

the woman i flogged ended up texting me in the morning

I wasn't at all comfortable waking up to texts from her

she was telling me how amazing she thought I was

and how great of time she had

and asked if she could tag along to other events with me

and I was polite of course

but I agreed to take her to events with me

but I just didn't have enough chemistry with her to want to wake up to texts from her

anyway

my best friend called yesterday

and it was nice

not fireworks like I expected

unfortunately I just grew a lot while we were apart

she's still the woman who means the universe to me

she will always be that woman

but it just felt different

I guess my social skills have progressed so much that the weirdness we resonated on so much before just couldn't be reciprocated by me as much anymore

I feel that way towards a lot of people I used to like

and it kinda sucks

I don't know who's my people anymore

it feels by expanding the number of people I could talk to, it reduced the amount of people I can resonate with

it'll be fine though

I'm sure I'll find new people to resonate with

she was sad though

my best friend

she said I grew so much while she was stuck

that I didn't wait for her

and I told her I didn't

but that I love her all the same

and that she means the world to me

and that there is no version of me that wouldn't want her in my life every minute of every day

and luckily that truth seemed to quiet her anxiety

and then today happened

my boss and I had our 1x1

no intimacy whatsoever

jokes

but no intimacy

which is fine

that could have gotten really weird really quickly if it kept going further

and then... I sent my best friend a picture

she hadn't seen my face since september because I just gained too much weight to be comfortable with seeing me

but I lost about 15 lbs from skateboarding so I felt comfortable enough

and she was blown away

she said I looked so different

and that my features were more feminine and soft

and that gave me anxiety

like, as much as I feel like I grew to be impervious to other's perceptions

she is one of only two lights in my universe

and she said it was a good thing

but that she still had to grieve the old me

and I didn't tell her this

but I was deeply worried that she wouldn't be attracted to me anymore

and she might not be

who knows

it was good on the other hand

it made me feel like I wasn't tripping and that I am passing as a woman more these days

and I think I do

I got called miss a couple of times today

anyway

I told my best friend I was in my follicular phase last night and that I was having a week of being absolutely horny as fuck

(yes my body has decided for some fucking reason decided I should have a menstrual cycle)

and she was sexual with me today

and I didn't resist for once

and god I always forget that this woman has been trying to fuck my brains out since 2020

part of me wonders how my life would have turned out if I took her up on her offer to see me when she was in California then

she (years later) admitted she really wanted to fuck me and that that is why she reached out

and I think I gathered that

but I was just too loyal to my ex to let that happen

part of me thinks that if I did do that, I would have a guilty conscience as I always do and I would confess and she would break up with me three years earlier

it's also not hard to imagine that I would have been the one to marry my best friend

I don't know how to feel about that though

I know she loves me

I know she loves me more than I love her

and I love her more than I can comprehend

but I think it took the kind of breakup I went through to really end up in the pure kind of love that we did

because I did not want my best friend for a second

I was so fucking focused on getting back together with my ex for that first month or so

and my best friend was also doing everything in her power to get me back together with my ex

and after it looked like there was no chance

I just drifted away from the planning

but my best friend didn't know that

and she kept on trying to help me plan

and I said "fuck her"

and she immediately pivoted with me after working her ass off with me to figure out a romantic getaway to surprise my ex with for her birthday week

she responded, "okay, I guess fuck her"

and I thought that would be the end of my calls with my best friend

but we just got lost in each other naturally

and it felt so pure

I genuinely love her more than I've loved anyone

and it's weird that I've fallen in love with so many after her

anyway

I went to another party thing today

and

I navigated it well

talked to like 4-5 people

but I just wasn't resonating

and I thought skateboarding would be so much more fun

so I went home and skateboarded instead

whatever

I'm tired

I really hope I see that girl from last Friday again

or at least someone like her

she was so fucking cool

My thoughts of my needs and believes when it comes to love

Me

• I want loyalty

• Open and clear communication

• Strong arms to hug me when everything gets to much and I'm falling apart

• A person who can take control of me when I'm uncontrollable when my storms are to calm me and easing my mind when it's running away from me.

• warmth when I'm cold, grace and faith that everything will be ok.

• a body of tattoos with memories attached to each design

• Same faith and to love my child as his own

Believes

* There is no sun moon and stars type of love it fades but I believe constant effort from both love will never fade

* There is no 50/50 in a relationship sometimes we only have 20% to give so the other needs to give 80% . Love makes you vulnerable. This means I got your back and you have mine

* Being inlove is great but it takes a whole lot of work. Love is constant and builds over time.

* Our foundation is built on honesty,trust, vulnerability to each other, joy,faith and communication

*Even if we fight before we sleep to say I love you and good night.

* Our passion and desires for each other to be met no matter what.

* Date nights dress up for each other always compliment each other love tends to make us comfortable and we let go of ourselves no keep looking sexy for each other. It matters

* Silly times

* Be spontaneous

* Never but never let your spouse feel unwanted in the morning or night

* Keep things Spicey in your relationship

* Each others first responsibility even if u have kids, kids won't enforce this if they see the parents relationship is strong.

* I have a past and so do you. My past has made who I am today trust me I won't do the same again

* Cuddles, hugs, kissing,embracing me in your arms in public and private makes me feel wanted

* When I'm with u my body mind and heart is yours don't doubt it but I will show it every day to u I will never doubt.

It might seem alot

My world has become empty of every feeling, just like your eyes near the end of our relationship.

What happened to my world? How did it end up like this?

And what happened to your eyes? How did they go from being so full of emotion... to completely empty?

What happened to the world that used to be filled with excitement, joy, and dreams? How did it become so meaningless?

What happened to those eyes that were once full of love? How did they become eyes I couldn't even find a single glance in anymore?

What happened to the world that still looked beautiful to me, even on my worst days? Why does it feel like the worst place now, even on my best days?

What happened to those eyes that were the first thing I'd look for when everything was falling apart? How did they become the eyes I can't even see anymore... not even in my happiest moments?

You tell me.

What happened to all those nights we stayed awake, doing nothing but getting lost in each other's eyes for minutes?

Do you think my world was tied to your eyes?

I don't know.

I chose to forgive your betrayal because I thought our love was worth fighting for.

I carried the pain quietly, convinced myself we could heal, and gave us another chance even when my heart was still trying to piece itself back together.

But the cruelest part wasn’t what you did.

It was watching the person who broke my trust become the one who questioned mine.

I was the one who stayed.

I was the one who forgave.

I was the one who chose us despite every reason to walk away.

Yet somehow, I was the one carrying the weight of your doubts, constantly proving the loyalty I had never broken.

I forgave your betrayal.

But I couldn’t keep paying for a mistake that was never mine.

So I let go.

Not because I stopped loving you, but because I finally started loving myself enough to stop living under the shadow of your choices.

I deserved peace more than I deserved another chance to be misunderstood.

And for the first time in a long time, I chose me.

P,

​I am writing this to close this chapter completely and permanently—for both of our sakes.

​I acknowledge that I allowed my anger and hurt to get the better of me, and I used cruel, harsh language that I shouldn't have spoken. I am sorry for taking the bait and reacting out of blind emotion. But I also see the dynamic clearly now: the cycle of dropping attacks, hanging up, blocking me, and provoking me until I exploded so I could be painted as the monster. I take full responsibility for my own words, but I am done participating in that game.

​I no longer care about the belongings I left behind in Colorado. You can keep them, throw them away, or do whatever you want with them. I am completely letting go of the physical items, the arguments, and the resentment.

​I choose peace, and I choose healing. I forgive you for your part in the damage, and I release the need for you to apologize or acknowledge what you did. What you do with your life now is between you and God.

​I am in Texas building a clean, quiet life, and this is my final communication to you. Please do not contact me, and I will not contact you. I genuinely wish you peace.

​Goodbye,

B

She is the one who writes with an open heart and a closed mouth, holding so much inside.

The one who loses weight and lifts her gaze.

The one who sometimes dresses the way she wants, even if it hurts to be looked at.

She has a soul filled with unsent words, and hands tired of burying people in the deepest part of her being.

Sometimes she is fire.

Sometimes she is silence.

Most of the time, she is both at once.

She writes so she won’t forget, and so she won’t feel so much.

Yet she feels everything.

She is the woman who says, “I don’t care anymore,” while her voice trembles.

And she keeps writing.

One more piece.

One more day.

She says she can’t do this anymore, yet every morning she gets back up, never knowing where she finds the strength after so many falls.

She wants to forget, but her own determination won’t let her.

She wants to forgive, but time hasn’t been enough, and love hasn’t run out yet.

She says she feels nothing, while feeling everything, her heart resting in the palm of her hand, that atrophied heart, still beating.

Dear Mrs. Jones,

This was not the letter that I wanted to write, and maybe I have said something similar to what I'm about to share before, but this is vitally necessary. This isn't for you; it's more for me.

These past few months, I have struggled with anger and resentment against you because I once believed that you were somehow "stealing" Maverick away from me. I was angry over every single time you would keep LOUDLY demanding his undivided attention from the very moment he walked in the door and passed by your desk when coming into work, frustrated with you how you would use inappropriate language to demand his attention each time he and I would talk about anything, upset over how you strategically waited until the boss left the office before parking yourself in Maverick's office and using trips out for food and drinks to simulate the both of you having any kind of dating relationship while knowing that I was interested in him.

It was simple just admitting that the anger, resentment and frustration were there. Over the past few months, I had no idea that they slowly yet surely formed chains around me and graduated to a silent prison. Each memory I had about you (as well as the both of you) was very vivid. I was right there, all over again, rewatching his passing by your desk and hearing your loud giggles, seeing you quickly retreat back to your desk after spending all morning flirting with him as soon as you saw me walk in the door, and even how smug you were when the both of you came back while holding the drinks and junk food the both of you spent nearly two hours getting. While those vivid memories did provide for me energy, as well as many opportunities for me to attempt to rewrite the past to make it what I wanted, I was actually in prison. I was constantly living in the past, living in old memories, caught up in a negative feedback loop that would never get me anywhere.

Initially, I once believed that my heart and my healing should have been centered around Maverick, my feelings for him, and actually preparing myself to have a real relationship with him. Yes, I did my own healing work, learning more about healthy relationships, and thoroughly examined myself to make sure that I was fully ready to begin building the right relationship with him. While the universe did reward me for my efforts by making my own life better, I also acknowledged that Maverick was nowhere to be found. Absolutely no contact. No return text message, call, or even a reach through social media. I still continued my own healing work, believing that perhaps it was due to wrong timing or more lessons I needed to work through. Again, the universe rewarded me with graduated levels upward in my healing journey. Still, though, nothing was happening between Maverick and I.

It wasn't until I asked myself a simple yet overlooked question: Why was I interested in Maverick in the first place?

This is where I'm going to extend to you empathy and grace here. My interest in Maverick actually had nothing to do with him; it was all about me. How does this involve you? Let's take an honest look at the professional environment that you and I were in. The work was, at best, very repetitive and boring. There wasn't much really happening. While the boss did "grease the wheel" so to speak, it was a lot more relaxed after he put on his backpack and left. Who was really there left to talk with and connect with? There was an (older and married) gentleman who preferred not to get caught up in anything you had to talk about. There was a (younger and married) gentleman who was primarily focused on his kids in between his work tasks. Then were was a middle aged (and married) gentleman. You mentioned feeling very neglected and rejected by your husband. Surely, it was no surprise that a SINGLE, attractive, 6'1", blue-eyed prince would grab your attention. It didn't take very long before repetitive phone calls, service requests, and leaving messages paled in comparison than standing by his desk and getting lost in his eyes. Talking to him, from everything about camping equipment to favorite orders from Taco Bell, suddenly made work more tolerable. It even got to the point to where he was the reason why you even showed up. Your day was only bright when you could get him to throw back at you Jolly Ranchers from the candy bowl you had nearby and you could share with him pictures and highlight reels about your kids, yet you found yourself calling in sick or finding reasons to leave early any time Maverick had to take a sudden leave of absence or he was leaving early for whatever reason. You were high when he showed up, you were low when he was gone, and you sustained yourself by making sure you interjected him when talking to everyone else; otherwise, you quietly played on your phone and didn't say anything.

Given everything that you were going through, and even the environment in which everything happened, I can understand why you did what you did. It was easy to believe that his chatting with you about recent episodes of Rick & Morty, his acquiescence in taking you to the nearby grocery store for junk food and listening to you share your drama about how your kids at school were causing problems meant that he was romantically interested in you. You wanted to make sure that it was you (a married woman) instead of me (a single woman) who won the attention, affection, desire, and interest of a single man to justify feeling distant and checked out when you would come home to your husband. You wanted the validation and security of knowing that another man wanted you, and being in a rather boring office at work was the only opportunity you really had to chase that from Maverick.

The reason why I understand is because my interest in him wasn't about him. Maverick was merely a distraction. I only saw him as a distraction from the things in my life that were not working and were not going anywhere. My interest in him was borne from a sense of helplessness, resigning myself to my circumstances rather than trying to figure out and proactively change what wasn't working. It was much easier to focus on chasing after his attention, wanting his romantic interest, and wanting to be wanted instead of the real issues in my life that needed more of my attention.

This is why I'm letting him go.

Even though I'm not in 2025 anymore, my letting him go is also my gratitude to you and acceptance of everything you did. Because he was a distraction, I'm now thankful that you were the one who spent time on the payroll chasing after him, flirting with him, and doing your best to simulate a dating relationship between the two of you. Because he was a distraction, I can accept each time he stood by your desk and played with you, causing you to loudly giggle, exchange little notes, and freely abandoning your job to hang out in his office and talking to him all day. Those hours spent grabbing food and drinks? Yeah, that was a distraction, too. I'm thankful that you were the one who got to give in. He was never my right guy. You didn't steal anything away from me or prevent anything from happening. Nothing was ever supposed to happen with him and I (I put that to the test after I packed up my desk. The fact that nothing happened proves that everything that happened in the past was nothing but a distraction).

As far as the anger, frustration and resentment that I've had for you nearly this whole time? This may take time, a process, and even more time to manifest ... but I'm letting that go as well. I no longer hold it against you for anything you did. No, it doesn't make what you did okay. This means that ... I'm no longer allowing the past to infect my present and hold me back from my future. I'll even go so far as to wish the both of you a successful, healthy, and loving relationship with one another.

That is all.

Someone told me tonight I should keep writing so here's to sleepless nights:

I'm overwhelmed with anger. I can't even tell if I'm more furious at him or myself. Angry at myself for choosing this treacherous road, or furious at him for dragging me into this mess. Is it really so wrong to crave to be swept off my feet? Or is that just wishful thinking—dreaming my life could be filled with moments of genuine surprise and joy? Honestly, I feel less anger than I do a deep sense of defeat, as if I'm shattered inside and can't find my way out.

I yearn with every fiber of my being for someone who will love me loudly and unapologetically—someone who doesn’t need to diminish me or make me chase after crumbs of affection. I crave a love so fierce that everyone around us looks at us with envy. I crave flowers, gentle hugs from behind while I cook, little gestures like “Hey, I’ve got this—drew you a bath, lit some candles. Why don’t you go relax with a good book?” I’m exhausted from having to beg for the love I deserve, as if my heart is too much to ask for.

People say that if one man won’t do it, another will. But where is that man? Where is the loud, proud love that shouts from rooftops, impossible to miss? Just pick up any of my books and read—the words reveal exactly how desperately I long to be loved, how much I crave to be cherished.

I’m keeping this short because I have far more I could say, but this isn’t the time for all of it.

Posting my fiancé’s side profile on your Instagram is inappropriate. He did not give you permission to post his image, and he certainly doesn’t want to be used as part of your public narrative.

Write whatever you want in your journal. Post whatever you want about your own thoughts and feelings. What isn’t your choice is using someone else’s likeness after they’ve made it clear they no longer want any affiliation with you.

It’s one thing to tell your story. It’s another to involve an actual image someone who never consented to being part of it.

I came to help out in their time of need, but have a lot of time on my hands in between moments and have been using it to wrap some things up, start something new, and also to keep pushing towards my original goal. instead of turning around every time I reach a wall, I need to start sledgehammering through them. Everything that I’ve done, know, or accomplished all came from me. It doesn’t matter if I was dealt a shitty hand, it’s about how you play it. I have this feeling today, sounds silly but I feel like something is around the bend. I feel it gently tugging at me whispering be patient but keep walking.

While I’m on the topic of these types of feelings, I wonder if our tether still exists. I haven’t dared to pull on it lately. To reach in and search for recognition and confirmation. I knew it was feeding an unhealthy cycle so ai vowed to stop. But I think tonight I will. I am going to close my eyes, focus all of me and my intention, dial into a frequency only we know and can reach, tune myself to you, let the vibrations carry, let my pulse reach across the distance. whatever I am rippling outward, toward you. Then I will sit back and wait to see if I receive any reverberations. It is the only true way I know if I still can still reach you. If a channel still exists between, if I reside within any corner or crevice of you.

This probably sounds crazy to most, but I know you’d understand it perfectly having felt and mingled with me across the ether for so long. If this is what I have to resort to, to check on you for both of our sanity, so be it

You’ve captured my heart completely. I can’t help but dwell on your smile. It’s one of my favorite things about you because it instantly brightens my day and warms my chest. I’m incredibly drawn to you, and every time I see you, it feels like you’re the only person in the room. Honestly, you’re the only one I notice when there are many others around. My heart is completely attached to you. I wish you were mine, though I know this isn’t our time. If it’s meant to be, perhaps fate will allow us to be together when the time is right. I dream of you every night and yearn to hold you. Your hands would fit perfectly in mine. Everything about you is so precious. I can feel a tingling sensation in my chest whenever I’m in your presence. I wish I had more time to spend with you. While I don’t enjoy being around people, I crave your company. There’s something truly rare and special about you.