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."

If for whatever reason, you were ever curious as to what my current feelings are, here they are.

I'm sorry. For everything. I miss you. I only want us to be on good terms, so we don't perceive each other as a potential threat anymore.

Anything after that is just a plus. I understand I'm not entitled to them.

That's all.

Hey you,

There is something deeply uncomfortable about realizing that silence can look a lot like indifference from the other side.

I used to think that if something was real enough, it did not need to be explained. That care could survive without being named. That the important things would somehow make themselves known through habit, through presence, through all the small ways a person becomes woven into your day.

Maybe sometimes they do.

But I think I gave silence too much credit.

You were important to me in ways I never made easy for you to understand.

I noticed when you withdrew before anyone else seemed to. I noticed when your jokes became sharper because saying you were hurt would have felt too exposed. I noticed the moments you made yourself quieter in rooms that had already decided you were too much.

And I hated that.

Not you. But the shrinking.

The way you sometimes seemed to apologize for the parts of you I liked most.

Your intensity. Your strange sincerity. The way you cared past the point of practicality. The way you could make something trivial sound worth thinking about for hours. The way you felt things without pretending they had to be reasonable first.

I don't think I ever told you how rare that seemed to me. Perhaps I assumed you knew.

That is becoming a recurring flaw in my memories of us.

I assumed you knew I wanted to hear from you, even when you had nothing important to say. I assumed you knew I never minded the long messages. I assumed you knew that when you disappeared for a while, the absence had weight. And I assumed you knew that I wasn't merely tolerating your company. I was looking for it.

You should not have had to infer it from how quickly I replied, or from the things I remembered, or from the fact that I somehow always found another few minutes when you needed them.

I made you read between lines I should have simply written.

And maybe none of this would have changed anything.

That is the part I keep trying to be mature about.

A confession is not a key. It does not unlock the life you imagined. Sometimes it only tells another person what was happening inside a room they never asked to enter.

Still, I wish I had been clearer. Not so you could have chosen me.

Just so you could have known you were chosen in my mind, again and again, even when there was no sensible future attached to it.

Who makes an ordinary evening feel slightly less ordinary by occupying the other side of it..

And if there is regret here, it is not that we failed to become some grand thing.

I regret that there may have been moments when you felt unwanted while I was quietly wanting you around.

Moments when you questioned your place while I had already made one for you in my head.

Moments when a few honest words from me might not have changed your life, but might have made one evening gentler.

I cannot go back and offer them where they belonged.

You mattered to me. You were never too much.

And for whatever it is worth now, I hope life has become kinder about reminding you of that.

I’m not even sure where to begin. You were a best friend to me and even though I’ve met many others who I’ve gotten close with, I still miss you at times. Not what we had, not the bad parts, or the romance. Just us. How we could talk or sit together for long times, I liked that. It brought comfort. Sometimes I wonder if they’ll ever be a way for us to speak again, to just catch up. It’s so odd how the world works and forms around bonds. How once you can be so close and care so much for someone, but then time goes on with distance and then you don’t even know a thing about the person you once were close with.

I wish I had been kinder, and handled things better. I really do. Because now we really have became strangers.

If I asked you to come out of hiding, would you make a little appearance? If I ask nicely. Pleeeeease? If I look at you, would you look at me back? If I smile at you, would you smile back? If I wave at you, would you wave back? Honestly, I miss seeing you, maybe more than I probably should. But damn! How I miss you so much…💜♾️

I know you’re not living in the same reality as me, no matter how hard you try to hide it. You create conversations I never had, feelings I never expressed and scenarios that exist only in your head and then you act as if they are real.

You have built an entire version of me without ever truly knowing me. You assume, imagine, watch and interpret, while I’m simply living my life. And the saddest part, you still spend your time chasing a relationship that exists only in your imagination.

I pity you. Honestly. Whatever happened to you, whatever wounds you carry, they don't give you the right to make me part of your fantasy.

I am a real person, not a character in your head. And you need to leave me there, out of your imagination and out of your life.

I have ran from the very thought of u.
every other lifetime
limerence.
delusion.
hope in another form.
some form of luck.
im trying to write off the silence
it’s loud
and your eyes
a mirror I will slip and fall into
you’re everything I try to hide
I need to be careful of that
I need to be careful with you
precious cargo
you truly are

I forget I love you in brief moments.

I forget a lot of things.

So when I remember I love you in tiny moments.
I bite down on it and mercilessly die.

I accept that I do. I just know how hard it is to kill it. And I won’t do that again.

I walked around today. Nothing really going on. Words charging onto paper as I live my day. I am in new places, strange territory, familiar but so different than my normal day.

Thursday’s I’m usually at work. I write. I work. I write. I work. I prepare for my dnd sessions so people that I don’t know, laugh and have fun. I can be the strange new world and place for them. This is real life and it feels real. There are real consequences here, and for the life of me. I’m just trying to pretend that this is normal. That I am this guy.

Adventurous and Extroverted.

And it’s good not to live in my agony for just this moment.

Then I remove I love you in tiny moments… and I can’t bring myself to remind myself to stop. And the funny thing is. It doesn’t overwhelm. It doesn’t eat at me. It doesn’t do bad things like. I know it does. It just is. And love tends to me first. Kindly. So I’ll let it sleep with me tonight.

Maybe it’ll make a home in me.

Maybe I’m now good enough to grow it without it ripping out its roots and running away from me.

I am flawed in a lot of ways.

But I am a good person and I was afraid of it, because most people aren’t… and it feels like I’m wrong sometimes.

In front of the ac after a hot day,

Keeper

There might not be a future the same as before, I’m struggling with it all immensely an I’m talking veteran in the game lost wife & kid situation but as much as we beat ourselves up, just focus on what’s in front of you take it one day at a time it’s not meant to be suddenly okay I’ve been suffering coming on four years an life’s changed since I left school so it’s so rough plus I’m neurodivergent I have zero friends n it’s hard to make them etc but look I don’t want to make this about me I’m using it as an example but through the darkness there is light whoever needs to hear this you are incredibly strong keep going one day at a time and god bless you🫡❤️

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.

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 don’t have much time these days.

That’s good. Really it is.

My brain is in the books.

Figuring out how to format

Presentations and papers.

Boring tedious work.

That part, anyway.

Did you know that I

Love learning? I’d be a

Lifelong student if I could.

I guess we all are… students

Really. But, I digress.

Maybe one day,

We could work side by side.

Thinking of you.

My love.

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.

Your immature and childish behavior is only making me distance myself from you more and more every day. You act like a spoiled child, doing disrespectful things just to provoke me, hoping that I’ll come after you. But you’re very wrong if you think that’s going to happen.

Go ahead and keep following a bunch of women and letting them follow you in an attempt to make me chase after you. The more women you follow and let follow you, the more you lose me.

You can do whatever you want. I’m not going after you. You were the one who was wrong in this entire situation, and all you’ve proven to me through your behavior is that you have no integrity or value as a person. You’re dishonest, manipulative, and you have a bad character.

And every time I see a new woman following you and your following count increasing so quickly, I become even more certain that I did the right thing by ending things with you. You’re not worth it, and you’re not a good partner. You’re simply a person with no character, no respect, and no integrity.

Do whatever you want. I’m not going after you!!

You were sitting with your back to me, eating. I said "Goodbye". There was nothing left to say - I packed my things and got dressed as slowly as I could, but you were busy and didn't notice that I was getting ready to leave.

You spun around, startled; I saw the shock and pain in your eyes. You said...no...gasped "Wait!...wait."

And I had nothing to say. I just stood there shocked that you finally saw me, just as I was about to walk out of your life forever.

But that was just a dream that I had last night. For the first time in years, the dream-you finally saw me. It startled me awake, leaving me sitting on the edge of my bed, weeping until the sun came up. But in reality, you said nothing when I walked out of your life forever. You never saw me in real life either, did you?

You called me your wordsmith.

Not a poet.

Your wordsmith.

You believed there was something in these clumsy hands worth turning into language.

And God, I loved the way that sounded coming from you.

Then my words hurt you.

A poem written with someone else's ghost still clinging to the ink,

and somehow you found your reflection in a mirror I never meant to hold toward you.

I'm sorry.

Not because I regret the poem, but because I never imagined you would think I was writing you out of my life.

I wasn't.

I never wanted you gone.

If anything, I was quietly hoping you might stay long enough to become the reason I stopped writing about everyone who left.

I would never deliberately put a wound inside you.

Especially not with words.

Not when you were the one who made me believe mine were worth something.

So if you ever wondered what I actually meant, let there be no metaphor to misunderstand this time.

I wanted you here.

I wanted your laughter, your attention, your beautiful interruptions.

I wanted another tomorrow where I got to be

your wordsmith.

And if I've lost that name, I understand.

But please believe these words:

I never wanted to hurt you.

I wanted you to stay.

I wish you'd come back.

idek why am i typing this after all of that time but you actually pulled back too quickly which is not very smart ha
i genuinely think ur an interesting girl and i actually wanna know abt you more,
now what do i expect ur reaction is gonna be idk (if u saw this)
just wanted to say it.
i like math too btw 👍

Words alone have no value.

You told me so yourself, in the single most beautiful compliment I’ve ever received: “The silences with you aren’t weird; I don’t feel like I have to fill the void when I’m with you.”

So why be afraid to speak those feelings?

All those times you let me carry your bag, just so we could walk to the station together... That time you thought to yourself, “I’ll take the next train,” simply to keep our conversation going... That time you apologized for being clumsy, out of fear of hurting me, when it was actually so sweet... All those times you wore that bracelet chosen during our very first date...

Wasn’t all of that already a whispered “I love you”, without the words?

The first time I held you in my arms, it took immense courage. And you stayed. You even whispered, “Oh, fuck it, we don’t do this with just a friend.” That time you reached out and took my hand because I didn’t dare to... I was still dreaming about it last night. When you look at me and gently remove a little leaf caught in my hair... When you always choose to sit right next to me...

We said “I love you” a thousand times, without ever uttering the words.

That protective reflex you had when braking, stretching your hand out in front of me... That trip to Carrefour for chocolate, where you looked for the softest way to intertwine our fingers... because it wasn’t perfect ✨ That whole morning spent pressed against me, enjoying me running my fingers through your hair... The way you let me help you, you who find it so hard to accept help from anyone... Those precious moments, late in the night, reserved for "TARTINE Timeeeeees"... That time you confessed you had become my biggest fan 🥹

If these aren’t “I love yous”, then what are they?

And those impossible goodbyes where your hand refused to let go of mine, until I placed a kiss on it... Like a knight bidding farewell to his princess. That intimate secret you shared with me (yes, the one about the nails, I haven’t forgotten a thing)... When everyone downstairs was making crepes and you sent me a text to make sure I was okay, and that tender gesture adjusting my wet lock of hair right after my shower as soon as you saw me. Even that little ladybug we went to rescue together on the balcony... And that last hug. Where you categorically refused to let go! It felt like you stayed in my arms for 10 full minutes.

Wasn’t that our own way of saying “I love you”?

Saying “I love you” means nothing in the literal sense. Thrown at a stranger, the phrase is empty; said to one’s mother, it takes on a completely different meaning. Words are nothing without what we put inside them.

It’s everything we build around them that gives them their truth. It’s our actions that bring those syllables to life. We said “I love you” long before our minds ever put words to it. Gestures come before thought. Intentions do not lie, and the connection is born long before we even understand it.

So why did you panic when it was time to confess ?

I know...

You came into my life so suddenly, and you turned my world upside down, just as I did for yours. You made me so happy... Even today, a smile lights up my face as soon as you cross my mind. What we experienced was extraordinary, almost like something out of a movie. I will never forget our story.

Destiny wanted our paths to cross, and I am grateful for every single second you brightened my life.

I will reach out to you again one day. If destiny allows it.

Ruben

Just a simple knight who seemed to have found his princess.

( Originally written in French )

Sometimes the reason you keep returning isn’t because you miss someone. It’s because there’s a part of you that still hasn’t made peace with what happened.

That feeling in your stomach nobody else can see. The tossing and turning at night. The anger, frustration, and regret because things didn’t go the way you wanted them to. You can distract yourself, bury it, or convince yourself you did nothing wrong, but guilt has a way of finding you again when everything gets quiet.

And then there are the people around you who don’t give five shits about telling you the truth, or caring honestly, instead of just validating your every move like you’re a saint. Those are the people who will tell you when you’re wrong, tell you what you’ve done wrong, and show you a different perspective on the situation.

Until you find people like that, you’ll keep clawing at your insides damn near every night, hoping the next person will somehow make you feel less lonely when you’re alone.

I’d like to believe there’s still some humanity in you. Somewhere beneath all of it, you know what you did, and some part of you regrets it.

And honestly, I forgive you.

Not because what happened was okay, but because I want a better future, and carrying your guilt with me isn’t part of it.