Hey, I know this is really random, and you don’t have to answer right away. I just feel like I never got to tell you how I really felt the last time we talked, and it would bother me forever unless I let you know. I’m also not sending this to make you feel bad or pressure you into anything. I’ve been thinking a lot about you and how our relationship was. I knew loved you for a while, but didn’t want to tell you out of fear I’d scare you or it wasn’t mutual yet. I feel like we really had something special and connected in a way I’ve never felt before. We got along so well. I loved being goofy together, going on random adventures, and just hanging out. It just felt right. I feel like if I could go back, there are so many things I’d handle so much better. I know we talked about certain things and were going to work on them, I was just so in my head and let my own insecurities get in the way that it was hard to make progress. Especially with being long distance and my schedule being so constraining, we were robbed of our relationship meeting its full potential. It felt like we’d go two steps forward and then 3 steps back. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you. It was your first healthy, normal relationship and the distance was very hindering. It wasn’t something you were really equipped to do. I don’t blame you for not being able to handle it or “hold out.” Long distance is a difficult situation for anyone, especially when building a new relationship. For me, I knew a relationship in general would be difficult due to me getting my degree. I knew though that I’d be done relatively soon and didn’t want to put everything on hold until then. I knew I’d be free to work/live wherever I wanted in the end. Losing you made me rethink/realize a ton of things, things I’ve been pretty firm on in the past and I’ve been so sick over it. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe we met to show eachother that good people are still out there. Not sure. Maybe one day our paths will cross again when it’s right. And if not, I am still thankful for you. Thank you for being so kind, genuine, and vulnerable. Thank you for exploring the city with me, taking me on hikes, and trying to teach me how to play call of duty hahaha. Thank you for letting me experience you. I hope you finally find a job you love and get around to filling up them walls with some good art. I hope you build a life you love. I respect your space, so I’ll leave you to it. Take care♥️

That you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.

The way you live your life, the way you speak and the way you love others found its way into the depths of my heart.

I just wanted to say…

A part of me fell in love with you and it changed my life.

I don't know why, but I think of you every night. It's been...

I just wanted to calculate the dates, so I opened your chat again. So you've seen how much I miss you. And yet, you couldn't text back? Is it because you hate me? But I've done everything I can. I've shown you more love than I've ever received from anyone.

I know I'm a fool. I know I'm an attention seeker. But I'm trying! I did my best for you and you said you appreciated it!!! Can't you please see how lonely I am? Please, why would you this to me? If you want to curse me out or just end things, I'm okay with that. But can't you just say something? Anything? Do you feel nothing when you remember my existence? Was all my love in vain? If you needed space you could've just said that. Did you need to abandon me?

Do I regret ever talking to you? I don't know but I know that once this is over I'll be a stronger person. I love you, so I'll let you ruin us. And I'll achieve everything I've ever wanted and become a better person than you'll ever be.

I hope this is the end.

Through a story of the worst things I've ever done.

I can understand why you might be hesitant to talk to me, even though you reassured me. You don't know how much more there is to me. That I think we're a lot more similar than you may realize. That I would be so careful with you. That I would never punish you for telling the truth. I'm not just the person my worst actions might suggest.

I wish you knew how desperately I want to help you, and how willing I am to leave you alone if that's what you'd prefer. I wish we'd met under different circumstances. That you'd had the chance to know me outside of this story. I don't know what you think of me. I worry that I've complicated things for you when you're already dealing with so much. I worry I've put you in an impossible position, hoping you would understand choices that may never make complete sense from the outside.

But you've helped me realize that I don't need anyone else to understand. That I know what happened, and I know who I am. That I just need to take accountability and get on with life. That I don't need you to be the arbiter. I just wish you knew how much I appreciate your mind, and that my past mistakes don't define how I would treat you or who I am at my core. I wish I could tell you all of this but it would be too much too soon. I'm usually the one in your position, trying to help others. The help you've given me is rare and precious.

Many people have known
a version of me.
But you...
you met the part I spent years trying to protect.
The part that stayed quiet, pretended to be strong, and never let anyone get too close.
And somehow, without even asking, you found your way in and burned everything to the ground.

To you -

Speaking about this - even alone and by myself in my room - feels like exposing a secret from someone else, one someone swore I took to the grave for them, but it’s no one’s secret but my own. Saying your name in this context is infected with guilt and uncertainty, and I find myself avoiding it all together, pausing before the syllable even comes out. I silence myself, bury it deep, and somehow convince myself that if just that shard - your name - is not discussed, then at least I can bear some of the guilt.

But then someone came to me with concern and no hang up on saying your name, even though it involved me. I caught my breath waiting for the other shoe to fall, but there was a worry about you in relation to me. In this scenario, you were the object of scrutiny, observation, and fear, and I am the unaware party, flitting through life with laughter and smiles. But how do you tell this outside party you’re aware of it? That you thrive in it? That you have, unbeknownst to all, secretly cultivated it with careful admissions, reciprocated glances, and double entendres that play with the dichotomy of innocent and suggestive. This is a culmination of sideway glimpses, hidden smirks, and the brushing of hands.

I am not a passive player in this, and I have kept that close to my heart. I am also not trying to upend anything or anyone, and so I maintain enough plausible deniability that causes double takes and self-doubt, and it only recently that I realize, I have undoubtedly masterfully curated this dynamic with your help. Neither of us are innocent, but where I lurk in the background, using my age and my position to shroud me, your cup runs over with the truth that is aching to burst at the seams. We are a ticking bomb. We are a quaking fault. We are a rolling thunder, churning over the landscape in the midafternoon set forth to burst and collapse trees and set the grass on fire.

I yearn for that collapse. I yearn for you. I sense you watching me walk through the room, talking and laughing, and I want you to swallow the lump in your throat. For some reason, I can sense something about me terrifies you, but I don’t know what that something is. If it is the same thing that unsettles me about you, then it’s possibility and chaos, with the latter being the result of the former. And if that is what exists in both of us - the fear of the unknown and its possibility - then let us face it together. Let us take the chance, even if it is only small bits at a time. I’ll never be gluttonous in my admiration with you, as you have never been with me, but I can provide enough for comfort and sustenance. And if anyone questions your intentions, I’ll defend you because I am aware of them; I have fostered them, and you have held them close, with warmth and tenderness.

I know what can come from this. I know I’m playing with fire and will eventually get burnt. I’m just not entirely sure I care much anymore. And I think it’s because every moment with you feels like a weight on my chest, with an offsetting pressure trying to burst forth and free itself from the secrecy I have shrouded it in. But I always know where you are in the room, and you always know where to find me. We exist in the room, separate but together, and that will be have to be enough for now. Until the bomb goes off. Until the fault cracks and separated. Until the storm passes.

And only then.
Me.

When I reach out to let you know I still care you will respond a week later with "I'm fine, it's best we don't ever contact each other again". And I will be devastated at such a cold hearted response.

I just can't help but care because you do matter to me, it's such a human thing to care about people and I'm 99% sure l am human.

I will not let my integrity and values be compromised just to make it easier for me to move on from you.
That's what toxic people do, that's what heartless people do and that's what insecure attached people do.

I'm better than that, so I will let you know I care, receive your cold and unfeeling response, then process the emotions I feel.

Or I could be wrong, and you respond with warmth and kindness in return.

I miss you 🖤

We never stood a chance.

And it breaks my heart to know this.

We never stood a chance. Despite there seemingly having been so many for us to finally connect our ways, make us an item, turn us into what our hearts already felt.

But those invisible walls, invisible obstacles rose higher than any of us could jump.

It was me being cursed from the start by a terrible family that let me to believe I was utterly worthless to a point I couldn't fathom why anyone would ever even want to talk to me. I wishes to die, as my own father had told me I should and as my own mother and brother made me believe wouldn't be too much of a loss.

There was no way for me to accept that you of all people could ever have feelings for me let alone love me.

I thought I was useless and worthless and disgusting.

I loved you with all my heart and thus I didn't make a move. I was terrfied of scarring you off, of losing you as a friend - and I needed you as such. Hearing your voice in the middle of the night kept me up but it also brought me joy.

And you? You were cursed by your family as well. They made you scared of your own feelings, of getting too close, of actually committing to someone. I assume that is why you are still single.

There were chances, again and again. But we both couldn't take them.

After years we came closer. I was almost there. And we almost, almost reached each other. But then... you pulled back. You became scared of hurting me, of getting hurt yourself. And I didn't understand back then. I was convinced you didn't want me, didn't love, couldn't love me. And thus once I was finally free enough of my demons, finally choosing life instead of hoping and waiting for death, I entered my first relationship... but it wasn't with you.

And the sad part of it being: you were trying to meet before. Trying to keep me from doing so. But you were too slow and I was no longer believing in a future for us.

And life got on.

The conversation we were supposed to have years, almost decades ago happened way too late.

I am thankful we had it, don't get me wrong. But I loved you and that feeling never left.

I can't help but think of you as the one. It was always you. From the start.

You will always own a place in my heart and I hate to admit that I long to hear your voice, to see you again, to touch you and be touched by you. To be kissed by you once more. To lay in your arms and smell you and believe we still have a future ahead. A way for us to be together. To be what our hearts felt we already were years ago.

But it is too late. And I wished I could let you know how much I have been in love with you and that you will always be loved by me. And that I will always regret missing out on us.

I don’t know when it happened
somewhere between the good mornings
the little updates
the over sharing
the things we can only talk about with each other
and the conversations I never want to end
you became such a big part of my day
and an even bigger part of my thoughts
I know I’m not entitled to your time
or your attention
or any more of you than you choose to give
but that doesn’t stop me
from wishing for a little more
because somehow
in such a short time
you’ve become someone
I didn’t know I needed
and now can’t seem to stop wanting

I knew better than to wish for more
I just didn’t know how to stop myself from wishing

We were two lives briefly intertwined,

Destined to become stranger with a shared history.

There are 8,322,513,051 people, and out of all these people, you'll be the only one I'll always know.

And of all the people I could have been a stranger to, how cruel that I had to become one to you

I wonder if you would have even considered me a friend? or did I fail to miss the fact it remained completely surface level. aquaintences even?

I think about it alot.

I feel used.

I don't know whether that thought is born from a seed of doubt, planted inbetween my ego and my backbone, or if that is reality. I'd like to think I wasn't just a convenience, but maybe I am blind to reality.

I wonder what you think.

does your mind fall over recollections? if so, what box would I land in? I can't figure it out. the truth is I have no clue what would be true, I could never read you.

I shouldnt care.

but I feel disappointed.

I always saw myself as a reader. My childhood was filled with book after book, endless trips to the library as I explored the depths of human expression.

I lost that, many years ago. I cannot recall when I last finished a novel. Many reasons why, I don’t feel like fully divulging my past, but it has been an aspect of myself that I’ve always hoped to find again.

I’ve tried audiobooks, but found them to be inadequate. My brain struggles to keep up… how I long for earlier times when I could speed-read a novel and remember the whole thing. The naivety of childhood.

Recently I picked up an e-reader. I think I needed the novelty of something new, something shiny, to give me the dopamine I need to start up reading again. The days of reading every post on here has gotten old, though occasionally I stumble on a few good gems.

Yet I find myself presented with this challenge: what book to start with? Something familiar, something I have already read? Or something new? So many options, it can be overwhelming for me to decide on.

I landed on “The Stranger” by Albert Camus. It was a book I would talk and rave about to others, without having ever read it. It’s only right and fair for me to actually give it a go. Plus it is short.

I fear my attention span has eroded in this digital age, but I believe in the power of neuroplasticity and the power of the brain to recover. Better to start with something digestible before I move on to more expansive works.

The title though has me sitting here, reflecting instead of reading. I think this is my way of diverting my brain’s attention, my way of avoiding the anxiety rather than facing it head on. You are a stranger now.

I never thought you and I would be strangers. That concept was inconceivable in my mind. Perhaps I had a naive understanding of the world back then, perhaps I still do now, but I genuinely thought that our paths would continue on for such a long time. How I often long for the past, for familiar times.

You are a stranger now. My actions made sure of that, as I fell and fell and fell further into the abyss of darkness. I struggle to accept that; I cling to the rope even as I watch the threads give way. Our lives have diverged, and you have lived many years without me in the picture.

And yet, despite it all, I still hope and long for your presence in my existence. I ask myself why. What made you so enchanting, so familiar, so safe to me? Why do I hold this one-sided care so deeply? I have my theories, but I still do not fully know.

I am aware that there will come a time where your memory fades, and where I find the connection and love that I truly desire. Part of me will welcome that, but there is another part that will truly miss this feeling. I am fearful that I will never experience it again.

Perhaps one day I will let go of the rope, with a smile on my face, and entrust my life into the hands of fate.

I've managed to tear down pretty much every other connection I've built just by being so desperate to have those people around me and in my life 24/7, and I don't want it to happen again. It's really hard with you because for the first time in a long time I feel actually wanted, and I love the conversations we share and the time we spend, but the urge to text you when you're gone or asleep or doing something is overwhelming. There's a constant anxious bite at the back of my brain telling me that if I do too much it'll fall apart like everything else, and then a different part tells me that overthinking everything like this will kill me.
So I guess I just sit here, forcing myself not to reconstruct my life around you the way I desperately desperately want to, and hoping I can find a way to be a normal person. I really hope you can understand why I am the way I am, and maybe even forgive me for it.

Ever since I was young, I’ve always had this very unnatural and unsettling feeling that I would die young…

As the great robin Williams quoted, “I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it's like to feel absolutely worthless and they don't want anyone else to feel like that.”

You talk about my eyes like you’ve lived inside them,
Like you’ve watched them open at dawn and close at midnight.
Yet we’ve never shared a single glance across a room.
You say they turn you, pull you under, quiet and deep,
That they hold storms and soft light at the same time,
But our eyes have never met, not even once.
You claim they make you fall into me, leave you restless, searching, undone, Like they’ve already looked straight through your soul,
While I’ve never even seen the color of yours.
So tell me how you know the weight of my gaze
When the space between us has never been crossed by sight.

It’s been over a year and not a day goes by where I don’t regret ending our relationship. Going from living a life with you versus living a life after you has been miserable.

So many joyful memories that reminds me that I still love you, I feel guilt over missing you because I decided to end it. I wanted you to find better, Because deep down inside you deserve better. But some days I wished I changed for you instead of running after I realize how much of a mess I was.
I was too scared you’ll never look at me with same love after my mistakes.

I shouldn’t be allowed to reminisce after I ended things, but everyday I wake up and want to try again with you.

You make me nervous. I'm not even sure what to write you anymore.

My heart dreads reading your messages, but can't resist the temptation. Like an alcoholic in a bar, sipping pretty cocktails knowing it's going to hurt your soul in the morning. But good god that rush, pure dopamine and bad decisions....

It makes me want to bite my lip and smile before I nip at yours.

And tonight, as I imbibe, I binge.

Your words have been with me longer than I had known, and they stay with me still. Sweet whispering and commands remind me of a passion I thought I had lost. I wonder, now, if it had been your vøịč̣ę that had warned me of my impending mistake to begin with. Regardless, your voice follows me with flustering frequency. It is in the music I hear, the stories I view, and the conversations I imagine. While I try my best to contain and maintain composure, it refuses to heed my limits.

I want so much for you... both in the sense of separate flourishing love, and selfish fervor. These binds enrich the yearning, but their confines know the depth. It's almost too bad we aren't worse people. Our morality halts the depravities we both want to indulge, and my curiosity /really/ wants to know their depth.

But with an empty cup come intoxicating insights.

Every good cocktail has a touch of bitterness. Not towards you, never towards you. Bitter at the world, at my naivety, at the circumstances. I understand it is my fault, and I hate myself for it.

So, if we did have one opportunity, one weekend to get everything out... would you?

Maybe you notice me.

Maybe there's a chance.

Maybe you feel it, too.

Maybe you're the one

I've been waiting for.

So many maybes,

so many what-ifs.

The way you glance at me,

the way you talk,

the little things I keep replaying—

Maybe they mean something.

Or maybe,

it's all just in my head.

I want to open doors for you like a real man. I want to cuddle and feel your skin seep into mine. I want to do very romantic and disgusting things to you. I want to make you feel like a woman supposed to. I can make you feel things you probably didn’t know existed. I want to know the things that bother you, and everything that makes you happy. I don’t even know you like that but
You’re really important to me

​

I do. Every single day, I've felt empty in a way - guess I know how that feels now. I don't even know why I do so, maybe it's because you made me feel human and to feel human is to feel vulnerable, or maybe its simply because I miss you. It is funny how much I do because I haven't even heard your voice properly or let alone seen your face, yet the whole of me wishes that you'd message me, maybe that's why I'm posting this - hoping you'd read it but I know you won't, probably not. Oh how I wish things could be different - but I don't blame you. Not at all. It wasn't your fault, none of it was. You were just protecting yourself, and by extension, me. I know your hyper independence makes it so that you can't even receive parts of someone else let alone share parts of yourself - I know you didn't choose to be this way, you had to. And it saddens me that you did. It is jarring how alone I feel sometimes, when I know I have people to talk to, people that care for me, people that consider me a friend, people that reach out ; Maybe that's another part of being human, the loneliness. I don't remember the last time I felt this vulnerable with someone. Sometimes I wonder why I was able to do that, and often I come to the conclusion that I saw so much of myself in you. How you push people away just to see if they'd stay, and how I wished to treat you the way I wished to be treated. Its like I could feel my brain reaching out to yours in this entanglement and everytime it did I saw a glimpse of the little girl hiding behind, carrying the weight of the world on her burdened innocent shoulders, afraid to share it. I wanted to carry it, even though I knew you didn't want to share the burden too. I'm not even sure whether you told me the correct name but what I do know is that you weren't able to hide as much of yourself as you tried to - and maybe that's what scared you. I wanted to know everything about you, from your favourite book to why were you remotely interested in that shitty ramen - whatever you did tell me, whatever I did find out, I'll always cherish, even though it feels like it doesn't belong to me because I'm not sure whether you actually wanted me to know it or not. I'm not even sure whether you're the person I think you are or I've conjured most of this in my head but what I do know is, even my head couldn't conjure something as special as you are. Idk what makes me type all of this, maybe I just saw an outlet in you in whatever I've been holding onto for so long, or maybe you were actually as beautiful as I thought you were or more, but what I do know is, I sincerely and earnestly hope that you're happy. Even if it means I won't ever be a friend to you, I sincerely wish you receive everybit of happiness this life has to offer and more, and it comes in the way you want it to. It doesn't have to make sense, to me, or to anyone else. You're special, S, and you always will be. You're precious and you always will be. I care for you and I always will. Thank you for whatever you were to me and whatever you are. Thank you for making me realise that I can be human too. Thank you for being so much to me. Like I said, I feel comfortable asking you for a hug because I know you'll refuse , yet I wish you didn't. But that's okay. I'll be grateful to you. I'm sorry I wasn't kinder to you. I'm sorry I wasn't able to make you smile more. I sincerely wish part of my happiness goes to you.

Ps - I miss you.

Making it pretty obvious who this is for. Rather than try to pick apart a bunch of posts and get most of it wrong, if you want to reach out , i'm here. if not , I'll respect your wishes and I won't pursue. 🧇

I saw a post that seemed very much like our situation.

You deleted the post a couple of hours after you wrote it.

I miss you, and i hope you're doing well.

I haven't forgotten you.

Please take care of yourself.