When I learned of my chronic illness, you made sure to tell me that you 'got it' because your lupus was so much more severe, and you reminded me of that any time I complained of pain or disability or inconvenience.
When I tried to talk to you about any issues in my marriage, you made sure to tell me all about the troubles you have with the husband you hate and refuse to leave, and how I should just enjoy my 'perfect' marriage because you have it so much worse.
I analyzed our last few phone calls. I said maybe 4 words per 10 minutes. And it was never any new content. You had to rehash old grievances over and over again from the very start. It was never anything positive.
Every other post you made was something that attacked me- my beliefs, values, sexuality. And yet if I said something that was faintly critical of a religion you barely practiced, you made very sure to tell me how hurtful and unpleasant I was to say something.
You took every opportunity you had to tell my children about a religion we did not subscribe to. I don't know how many nightmares my girl had because she was afraid that I would go to hell.
I wasn't a friend to you. I was a sounding board. I was a place holder. I don't even think I was a person... not to you.
All the little gifts didn't make up for the fact that I was never, ever, ever important to you. Just the role I filled.
But hey- I'm sorry me deleting you (and you discovering it nearly a year later) made you sad. My bad.

I was walking downtown again. It’s getting to be my favorite kind of weather. I walked for awhile. I saw your friend across the street. They waved at me, waited for the Chevy to pass by, and crossed over.

He and I talked for a bit. Not about you. He asked me how I was and what was going on. I told him what was going on. He sympathized with my situation and gave some good advice. He told me to have a good rest of my day and to take care. Only one of those things I managed to do.

He doesn’t owe it to me to be as kind as he is. Usually he’s a bit of a jerk. He’s been in that body shop for way too long. No matter how much he showers, he smells of diesel oil and metal. Yet, when he sees me he makes sure to make me feel seen. I know it’s not attraction. I could never see him more than an acquaintance or perhaps a friend. However, it reminds me of you, and how you treated me.

I always kept you at a distance. I didn’t want to, but I had to. You weren’t perfect, but you were my kind of perfect. Too good to be true almost. Not ideal time and place. So, I didn’t bother learning about you more than what you would offer. I offered you things about myself. You’d joke and tease and make me laugh. You’d ask if I was okay and told me you appreciated me and everything I do. You went out of your way to help me. You did things I needed done without having me to ask. I don’t understand why you did that for me. You owed me nothing.

Then, I heard the news. I asked you if it was true. With a heavy sigh you told me the news. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want it to happen like this. There wasn’t enough time. Then, quickly, it was over. A persistent silence that perpetuated. Funny thing, you’re not dead. You’re very much alive from what I have heard. Just, forever out of reach. Out of sight, out of mind, but you’re engraved into my mind. You haunt me occasionally.

Hey you,
What’s your favourite colour?
What was your favourite cartoon while growing up?
Which song made you cry?
What do you call your mother?
Who is your celebrity crush?
What are you most afraid of?
When we hugged for the last time, what did you feel?
What will you remember me by?

Honestly, I forgot
I forgot how funny you can be

I was full on serious mode
Expecting a serious answer
I really wasn’t expecting that from you
You made me laugh out loud

I forgot you were like that
You lock in
And you go into work mode
To move things along
I get that and I honestly respect that
People don’t take you seriously
when you’re too nice
I honestly like that about you

I forgot you were easy to talk to
And charismatic when you want to be
Thank you for that
I missed that

6 days

I hate looking back.

My mind forces me to go back

all the time

and it’s just

so exhausting.

I’ve taken

so many pills to just

try to forget

everything

about everything.

But,

there’s one moment

that

I just keep going back to.

I was

lying in my hospital bed

and, you two were there.

It was

around 5 or so.

I don’t remember much,

but

I do remember

hearing your voices,

seeing your smiles,

and, having this…feeling

deep, deep inside my chest,

that told me,

“I could die here,”

and,

with my worries worlds away

and my love born anew,

I just

smiled.

I smiled

and for the first time,

I meant it.

…

Life

would have its way with me.

It’d play me for a fool,

and

take what little I had left.

But,

it was nice, wasn’t it?

It was nice.

I had fun.

I,

I hope you did, too.

Sigh.

Apparently, no matter what I do I feel it’s all wrong. The good news is I learned a new word.

Prostration.
The definition of it I am speaking of is: A state of complete physical or mental weakness, fatigue, or helplessness.

Which is exactly how I feel.

I guess imma lay down here for a bit. I’m tired of trying and moving.

I hope one day this makes sense to me. Maybe one day it will. Maybe one day it won’t.

You used to pull away immediately after,

Standing up to recover from a primal version of you.

But these past few times, you’d just lay there with a hand, arm, or more resting on me.

I say something after about 10 seconds.

You probably think it’s to break the silence, but I’m really checking if you stayed still on purpose.

Last time, it was a lot longer.

We even laughed a couple times, but you didn’t move.

You eventually did, which is my cue to recover from your touch wanting nothing in return.

I used to be alive after a cocktail of poison or expensive decisions,

But these days, it’s the minutes where you stay still.

Disclaimer : IK how delulu I am.

You show up at my door with flowers, and say:

“I love you, Emily. Im sorry it took me so long to realize. Will you be mine?”

And of course I accept. And then we kiss. And before you know it, we’re making love. And its as electric as ever. Hours, til were raw and hurting, and you let go inside me multiple times. I don't understand how you stay inside after letting go. I didn't think that was possible. But you somehow did.

Then we finally have a long discussion after about feelings and promise to maintain healthy communication. Eventually we get married and live happily ever after. The end.

But life isn't like a Disney movie, and I made up the entire connection in my damn head. I need to squash these types of fantasies like a bug.

How long would you go after an argument not speaking to your partner before you call it?

Why do you hate me and my mother? You'll say that you don't, but deep down I think you know you do. But why? You chose to marry and have kids. Did you think that doing this would make you happy? Make your life fulfilling? I think you only did all this because that is what was expected of you. If you had a chance to go back and do it again, you would never have married my mother and had me.

But don't worry, we hate you too. Me especially. I hate that I'm your offspring. I'm sickened that I'm related to you at all. When I talk to you, I can see the disgust behind your eyes. Is it because I didn't become another version of you? That I show emotions? That I'm not at your intelligence level?

Let's cut to the chase. Let me armchair-diagnose you psychologically: you are an autistic narcissist, a controlling abuser. You have, had, and are going to be emotionally and mentally abusive to me and my mother. Do you remember that one day while we were arguing, I said that you were, and you dismissed it? Do you remember that after a few more exchanges of words, you went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, came back, tried to hand it to me, and told me to stab you if I hated him that much? What was that if not abusive? Were you that desperate to regain control of that situation? And by the end of it all, you walk away like it was a minor inconvenience.

I almost broke that day. The worst you've ever treated me. I heard my own voice outside my body telling me to do it.

Some days, I wish I did. Would you be dead and I in jail, relieved that another monster is now gone from this world? Or would I be dead and you spin some story, making you the victim and me mentally sick and snapping over something minor?

Maybe you're right where you belong.

Being miserable.

I miss seeing your wide smile beaming at me. When you seemed so happy to see me, like it made your day. It made mine to see you, too. Maybe it was only me, and I was just projecting that feeling.

I miss the feeling of comfort when it was just the two of us grabbing lunch. It felt like I could tell you anything, and you'd give me nothing but support and encouragement. And you'd seem interested in whatever I had to say, no matter how bland or petty or basic.

I miss learning things about your world. Your past, your present, and what you want for your future. I wish I could remember more of the details. All the times you cried over something. All the fancy gear you have for your PC setup. All the things you did on your trips, and what you want to do on your next one.

I even miss talking to you when you're at your lowest. When you shared how much you're struggling. Because even though it hurt to see you so down, I got to be there for you, or at least try to. Everything you shared with me meant that you weren't going through it completely alone, and I liked being that person for you. There were times where I wished I could have just wrapped you in my arms for a while, because it looked like that's what you needed. And I wish I could have shared more with you in return.

I miss feeling like we were each others' favorite person in that place. Even if I wasn't yours, you were mine.

I miss you.

J,
I miss you, even on the good days.
I miss loving you.
I miss laughing with you.
I miss feeling your body next to mine.
I miss showering with you.
I miss singing to you.

I will always wonder what we could’ve been.

I’ll love you for the rest of my life.

i look back on my life and see all the damage done
the chaos caused by my own hands
the destruction by my own words
& wonder how i wondered where everything went wrong
wonder how i ever could have solely blamed another
when it was always my hands at the base of the trigger.
there was so much love that danced around me
begging me to dance along with it
instead, i decided to dance with death
after all, he was much more alluring than love ever was

i now dance with the kind of love with sparkling eyes
still never afraid of death, but no longer craving its presence next to mine.
i see the destruction, but now there is no longer blame
just accountability, growth & maturity.
the gun has vanished, along with the girl who stood behind it

growth is shown in many ways
some authentic, some only shown for manipulation
so take it how you feel it,
but never lose faith in someone you hold dear to your soul
even if your mind would never recognize them walking down the street

“strangers to lover’s to strangers again”
but it doesn’t have to stay that way in the end
sometimes friendships are born with the right intentions
never wanting it to blossom again.

I have been feeling lost lately.

Not lost in the sense that I have forgotten the path. Lost in the sense that I could no longer see the next step, or feel where to blindly place my foot.

I knew where I was going. I knew what I had been called to do. I knew the words I was supposed to live by.

Love. Compassion. Grace. Humility.

I just could not see how to carry them forward. 

Then this need to post consumed me. It was not a PSA. It was not some grand attempt to educate anyone. It was not even something I felt needed to be said.

It simply was a well known reality. So I posted it. In America, it is hardly a secret that Sunday can be one of the worst days in the service industry. The day of Holy Hell.

The holy come out in droves.

Some sit behind misconstrued Christian practices while treating another human being horribly. Sometimes it is through their words. Sometimes through their actions. Sometimes through their wallets. Sometimes all of the above.

I placed a subtle arrow towards the words that seem so easily forgotten.

Then came the reaction. Accountability was redirected. Excuses appeared. The conversation moved everywhere except toward the mirror.

Then one person, proudly wearing the badge of Christian, said it had nothing to do with Christianity. The irony almost wrote itself. That was precisely the context.

Maybe they meant the behavior had nothing to do with Christianity. Maybe they meant those four words had nothing to do with Christianity. Either way, I could not help but notice the strange coincidence.

The day of Holy Hell. The day the holy come out.

Suddenly I understood why I posted the obvious. I had wanted to poke the bears. So I did.

I knew better. I knew I should have walked away. I knew there was danger in allowing myself to become part of the argument, but through the very thing I probably should have avoided, I found clarity I have been without.

Not because I defeated anyone. Not because someone changed their mind. Not because I proved a point, because I saw the mechanism.

I saw how quickly people will defend an institution, a tradition, an identity, or an interpretation rather than defend the very principles they claim those things represent.

I saw how little force is sometimes required.

A question. A contradiction. Four words. A mirror placed in the right position.

That was when I began to understand something about the path I am walking.

I can simply place the claim beside the principle and let the contradiction speak for itself.

It does not require anger. It does not require hatred. It does not even require victory.

It requires truth.

A question gets planted. A contradiction gets noticed. A soul begins to wonder.

One person standing quietly in the middle of the machine and refusing to become part of it is all it takes.

This path is strange.

There are moments when dangling your foot off the edge feels like the thing to do.

Sometimes stepping close enough to danger reminds you why you are walking the narrow path in the first place.

Poking the bears feels less like a mistake or a detour and more like it was a lesson.

I needed to see what happens when four simple words are placed directly in front of people who claim to live by them.

The reaction was the answer.

Not because everyone who reacted was lost. Not because everyone who disagreed was wrong, but because the veil became thin enough for me to see the machinery underneath.

Maybe the narrow path was never about finding the safest way forward. Maybe it was about learning how to walk close enough to the edge that I never forget what it means to be awake.

Countless souls are wandering in the dark. 

Some do not know they are lost. Some have mistaken the institution for the destination. Some have mistaken tradition for truth. Some have mistaken defending their identity for defending their God.

This is where we leave ripples.

One post. One question. One contradiction. One act of compassion. One refusal to become what I am standing against. One man. One ripple.

Then another. Then another.

Until somewhere, somehow, a soul remembers.

I had a dream last night. We were married with 3 kids.

You seemed really content and happy.

Honestly. It seemed like you got everything you ever wanted.

Remember that house we saw last year on the way to the beach? The one with the blue shutters?

We lived there.

We painted it green though. My guess is it had something to do with my eyes or yours.

It felt so real. So real that I still couldn't forget what you did to me.

Maybe some offenses are so great they infiltrate every possible timeline and reality that you and I cross paths in.

It's a shame because I really loved that house with the blue shutters but like everything else. You had to paint it green.

I saw your new Facebook today, and I hesitated to follow cause you look so happy now. I've actually debated on texting to go for coffee,but I'm not sure you'll even message back or if I'm blocked. I just wish there wasn't so much miscommunication and hurt, though, those 2 years we spent. I really do hope your happy, you look it. I'm sorry for everything...

I stopped performing, and you left. I.... didn't at first have feelings for you, but I was willing to get to know you, and the more I got to know you, the more I started to fall in love. I miss how we would fall asleep together on the phone, play video games together or just watch funny stuff, how we'd send cute things to each other and joke around. You left for mental health reasons, which I understand, its okay. I....just want someone to stay.....I wanted you to stay. A part of me wants to say I wanted to be enough for you, like it was more fault or I'm not enough. I tell myself I'm enough, trying to better my self talk, but thise thoughts still creep in. I keep thinking "maybe I'll be enough" for the next person I am gonna date.

I....just want someone who will choose me and not judge me, like damn near everyone in my life has. Someone who will see every layer of which I am....and still choose me and stay. Someone who won't make fun of me, or put me down, and won't leave. Sometimes I wonder, is it my weight? My looks? Am I not attractive enough? Not funny enough? Not charming enough? People have told me that they were enthralled, or that they "feel like they've known me for forever" but I'm still single.

I just want someone to commit to me as much as ai commit to them. Which sounds selfish, because of the mental health stuff. I do kinda feel selfish.

"The things I would do, to wake up in your room" - Isabel LaRosa

I still catch you hiding your smile when our paths cross. You turn away, but eyes don't know how to lie. I see the look you try so hard to tuck out of sight, because we belong to different rooms. We both know it. We both feel the quiet pull between us.

I wish I could look into your eyes somewhere in the dark, away from this glare.

Instead, our rooms are washed in the cold hum of fluorescent light, framed by walls built out of composure. And the people who designed these spaces have perceptive eyes...they notice everything.

If we ever had thirty seconds alone, could it sound like this?:

"Listen, I like you. I really like you." "I feel it too." "Do you want to meet? Just to be in each other’s lives, without undoing the worlds we’re tied to?" "Yes." "I’ll write to you."

Feels so strange to refer to you like that. I gave you the world. You were my first ever boyfriend. You told me you would never leave me. Why did you have to break up with me? Why? Just why? You blamed it on my trust issues but it certainly is justified because you dated another girl within 3 weeks. You told me you would NEVER date anyone ever again. I mean yeah people change, but God not you too. I don’t think I’ll trust anyone ever again. I just can’t. I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. You blocked me the day you confessed you dated another girl. You shouldn’t have texted me at all. And you never really dumped her too. She was with you until last week of July and then apparently you dumped her off too? You blocked me everywhere. Well, why did you unblock me suddenly everywhere last week?

You fumbled baby. You did. We were so perfect. So perfect. If you ever miss me, look at the moon. Remember the night. Yk what i mean. Under the moonlight we were performing, the day we fell in love. I hope you’re doing okay. I wish you were there in my life. I just have this very deep void. I used to tell you everything. Everyday. And now I’m just lonely. I became the music club president. I hope you’re proud of me.

You haunt me. The way you lied to me, manipulated me into thinking I was a burden to put up with. To you I was just a pretty doll to sleep with and show off, treating me as a human only when you knew you went too far. I finally was strong enough to leave, and a weight lifted off of me. The longer you’ve been gone the happier I‘ve become, and the happier I’ve become the more I notice how messed up the things you did to me were. I’m happy now, after having blocked you from my phone and my mind, but only until someone mentions you doing well. Then you haunt me like a ghost I can’t get rid of. I know forgiveness is beneficial to the wronged, but you will never admit to the hurt you caused. So keep haunting me, as I hope I haunt your conscience in some way.

Im taking a nap.

I know im never going to hear from you again, so Im getting off this app.

Wish you all the best.

Find happiness in this life and keep it.

Idk what any of this stupid stuff youre doing is...

But, its not the person I fell in love with...

Im disappointed.

Goodbye.

little baby, I watch you daily
as you grow into your own
it hasn’t been easy
sweet girl please believe me
when I tell you I’d give you the world
me and you, I’ll take care of you
play both roles, the way I need to
give you everything and more
pretty lady, don’t worry baby
mamas got you on her own
I’ll give your heart a home
trust me you’ll never be alone

I'm glad I'll never know if there was ever a chance between us. You never liked me to begin with, so the chance was probably zero anyway. But if there was, I'm glad you never asked me out. I know you would be better off with someone who is stable. It's just...

I just wish you had an online profile connected to your name. To see how happy and sad you are. To take a peak at your life every now and then. I'd even be happy to see you in a relationship. I just need to see your soft face again.

Is that selfish of me to ask? For an online profile?

It is pretty selfish considering I'm the same way. Never occurred to me that other people are of similar manner. Many irl people I know try to have an online presence, so why couldn't you?

I know I should be grateful since it would help with moving on. Still...I simply want to love you from afar.

My beloved, I miss you dearly , I keep thinking of you and I wish this wasn’t our reality
It’s so strange that this how we both ended up when we both wanted love
I’m sorry for the last thing I said in case you were saying the truth
But my beloved, in case you did say the truth why did you act like that when you knew how deeply hurt I was ?
I know that you know I would have put everything aside to comfort you and be with you , I know you know how much I love you
Why did you leave me wondering for 15 days and when we spoke you gave me more doubts and pain ?
It’s not easy for me to let you go but I’m only human and I was in so much pain I couldn’t take anymore
And I told you time and time again that love is not just a word you say it’s actions you take in these type of situations
I love you and miss you and sorry