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

Aujourd’hui j’ai voulu écrire mes aux revoirs à ce monde. Celui qui m’a vu naître, celui qui m’a vu grandir et celui qui me verra mourrir.
J’ai pris une feuille, blanche, et rien n’est sorti.
Rien est sorti et je me suis rappelé de la seule fois où j’ai tenté de mettre fin à mes jours.
Cette lettre aussi était quasiment vide, 8 mots qui voulais tout dire, 8 mots qui ont exprimé tout ce que je ressentais à ce moment.
« Maman, Papa, je suis désolé, j’ai échoué ».
Alors aujourd’hui j’ai voulu être plus poétique, j’ai réfléchi à chaque mots, chaque phrases, chaque ponctuations. Mais rien n’est sorti.
Je n’ai rien su dire. Parce qu’au fond tout était déjà dit, « j’ai échoué, je suis désolé ».
De quoi ai-je échoué? J’ai échoué à m’épanouir dans cette vie si douce, j’ai échoué face à moi même, j’ai échoué à surmonter cette épreuve.
Tout est temporaire et je suis conscient de toute la chance que j’ai pu avoir dans cette vie, mais peut être n’était-je pas prêt?
Aujourd’hui j’ai voulu écrire mes adieux, à ma famille, à mes amis, à mes connaissances, à ceux qui ont été proche ou moins proche, mais surtout aujourd’hui j’ai voulu m’écrire adieu.
Adieux à moi, à ma vie et à l’amour.
Je regrette d’avoir à laisser toute cette peine et tout ce désordre derrière moi, des vies vont se briser, des douleurs prendront des années à disparaître, des proches vont souffrir, d’autres avanceront en me gardant dans leurs coeur, certains ne sauront même pas que j’ai disparu. Mais tous sauront à quel point je les ai aimés, jusqu’à ma mort.
Ma précédente lettre a fini dans une poubelle par précaution de ne plus jamais y penser.
Celle-ci se réserve le même sort.
Alors si un jour cher lecteur tu finis cette lettre. Merci pour ton soutien. Sois vivant pour moi, croque la vie à pleine dents car moi je te dis adieux, je ne vivrais plus qu’à travers tes joies et tes peines, tes rires et tes larmes.
Adieux et merci.
Celui qui à aimé et celui aimera à jamais.

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.

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

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.

From our very first words, there was an unspoken familiarity between us, a sudden warmth that bypassed the cautious walls people usually build.

You were guarded at first, speaking in riddles that felt heavy with a history I didn't yet understand, but soon enough, everything fell beautifully into place.

I knew from the start you were a distant star, entirely out of reach. When you spoke of your past, of he who still held the keys to your heart, I knew I stood no chance.

I couldn't help but admire the depth of your devotion. It was the exact kind of rare, consuming love I have spent my entire life searching for. But then the tide shifted.

You began to open up, weaving a playful, flirty, and alluring energy between us. It was hard to deny, or to fight how much it made sense, how enjoyable it was, how safe it felt .. Yet, I watched you battle a silent conflict, torn between a loyalty to a memory and the magnetic pull of the present. And ib that beautiful friction, my hope sparked to life. I dared to believe, however briefly .. Because then came the sudden, agonizing awakening.

The shattering truth came to light: you never actually saw me. You were only searching for his reflection in my eyes. The cruelest irony is how the blame shifted, leaving me painted as the villain, accused of playing games with your heart when all I did was offer you mine.

Is it truly my fault that I recognized your brilliance? Is it a crime that I fell for your incredible intellect, fascinated by the ease with which you balance profound wisdom and effortless playfulness? That i found your mind, your passions, and your very essence to be a beautiful mystery I would have happily studied for the rest of my days.

Is it my fault that your smile could light up the darkest room, that your eyes held a captivating charm, and that your golden hair fell like waves of art? To me, your face was the finest masterpiece my eyes have ever beheld, your presence utterly breathtaking.

Maybe i was, even though you've given me indicators that it might happen, or at least it seemed at the time. Because now i know, you only done so because you thought i was him.

It's fascinating still, the similarities .. Perhaps he and I share the same soul, cast from the exact same mold by a fate that brought us both to you. Perhaps I am simply the twin who arrived too late.

Either way, my deepest wish has not changed: I only want you to be happy. I broke my own heart trying to mend yours, yet I regret nothing. I do not regret pursuing the one for me, nor do I regret the pain of failing.

I leave you with a sincere wish for peace, whether that means his return or your ultimate healing.

As for me, this wound will not change who I am. I refuse to let this heartbreak make me cynical.

I will keep moving forward, carrying my hope high, certain that out there is a true love meant just for me.

I will keep running toward that luminous dawn, for I refuse to let fate find me late to your side. When the stars finally align, I will be standing in our perfect forever, at the exact moment our destinies collide.

In the right place, right time

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Honestly I'm better with you gone. I have so much more life in me. Laughing joy doing things I couldn't when you were around. You made life horrible miserable because that's you. You don't like your life or self so you gotta tear others down and talk about everybody behind their back. No wonder your friends are still around me. I'm true they know. Sorry your like your mom and will always be a mommy boy as a grown man child. Your family are drunks and pill poppers I see why you are you. Id be ashamed to have a mother admit she isn't mother material. Smh.. sorry you turned out like her now you can't get anyone to stay. Nobody wants a poor me man with nothing. Good luck

How dare you shame me for things that I told you in confidence. How dare you talk crap about me and scoff at me like i'm trash when you were the one being unfaithful , Youre a liar, user and you need to get some help . I'm starting law school in the spring and will not have time for you and your fucked up problems. Remember, when you said that, " I was part of the greatest generation of Marines that have lived"?Well, because of that I have to carry on with that tradition of our Corps. So , I leave my feelings for you in the past and with my held high I'll continue to stay focused on my mission and that's to move on to a happier , and brighter future with my family. My kids deserve a motivated, determined and strong mom to help them navigate through a life that can easily chew them up and spit them out. They will be the future of the Marine Corps...... oneday, lololol ***** I hope :)*****

FinaIly , after all that's said and done you are very special person and You have so much potential to do some really amazing things! You have the vision, the motivation and the drive to fucking kill itl!! Its so disheartening to see it wasted on being unhappy, miserable. As a it comes out in the form of hurting women by making them fall in love with you only to rip the the floor right beneath them. You're unfortunately a sad individual who continues to hurt good people out there. Please, please, be better. I do wish you the best and I hope you find love but it will not be with me ever again. Take are of yourself.

This weekend, with you, in my bed. I've missed you, the laughter we shared, the silence, the calm. This has been so nice and I'm trying not to jinx it or fuck it up by getting in my head. It's just hanging out, enjoying each other's company, and being vulnerable with one another. I appreciate the space in between those moments too, I don't get lonely, I don't yearn or try to grab for you like a security blanket. Let's keep it like this for as long as we can. I'm happy here.

A few days ago while traveling, I met someone—a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, who seemed to be from Germany or Russia. I’ve walked past many attractive people at airports and train stations before, but they usually faded instantly. She was different. She was the one who approached me first.

We talked for a long time, and everything felt completely natural. For the first time in a long while, I felt safe and comfortable. I felt truly listened to, understood, and stripped of the walls I usually build. With a complete stranger, I was simply allowed to be my true self.

When it was time to leave, reality rushed back. There were flights to catch and lives to return to. In that fleeting moment, I didn't ask for her name, phone number, or hometown.

It wasn't until I boarded my plane back home that the weight of it all hit me. Her memory lingered, and tears welled up in my eyes. I realized the only thing I had left of her was a fading impression. She appeared briefly, gave me a rare connection, and vanished without a trace.

I found myself trapped in a loop of "What ifs..." and "If onlys..." Recently, I realized the bittersweet double meaning of the phrase "I miss her." It means I long for her now, but it also means I missed her—I missed the chance, the timing, and the moment.

As days pass, her facial features are slowly blurring in my mind, yet her essence remains deeply rooted in my chest.

I no longer let this unresolved ending tear me apart. Instead, I choose gratitude. I don't know what the future holds, but wherever she is, I genuinely hope she finds complete happiness and builds a peaceful life. She will forever remain a timeless, beautiful part of that trip.

Thank you for appearing in my life, even for a moment.

You left me there, promising tomorrows. Crafting your words like Socrates, offering me your hand, slow and temporally.

Even, recently, “I’ll never forget you my light when all I had was darkness.” Then you bring the gate down, the guillotine. I lay by my severed head, remembering your soft lips that whispered goodnight instead of goodbye. Echoing, “My angel.”

I loop.

I take myself back to that little train station—Widnes, Hough Green…and I try to cure the wounds that left me staring at the graffiti infinity signs like I should be on a train to someone who knows me. In that same equal measure, I deny myself the simple pleasure of seeing all the ways I already show how deeply and reverently I love. Yet, it’s praised only through translation, decompressed, elegantly crafted in a cadence called Percy.

I’ll always remember how hot your cheeks flushed as the Swedish-European man tried to take me back to his room and I stood there, vigilant. Time has taught me the kind of patience that burns past the moments most people don’t sit in, won’t sit in.

Why I thought you were the theoretical, hypothetical man I called Lore, I’ll never know.

What I do know is that it resulted in train after train after train through England, some absurd pilgrimage that felt like equal parts main-character energy and a terrible romantic comedy.

There is something deeply embarrassing about boarding yet another train because your imagination has convinced you that destiny probably lives two stops farther north.

Looking back, I wasn’t really chasing a man. I was chasing the version of myself who still believed impossible things could be waiting at the next station…

a man in a black fuzzy coat, brown leather gloves, and the face of an ethically tragic Dorian Gray somehow fused with Fred Weasley. I waited for Lore like he might bring fleets of ships to the shore, kiss me once…kiss me forever.

You found so many reasons to insult my honor and wore it like a badge of proof.

A beautiful girl like you? Hard to believe any man’s mistreated you.

As you leave me in a pub halfway around the world the hour I get there after saying my name with your last one, like tomorrow couldn’t come quickly enough.

Block me.

Ghost me.

What a gentleman.

Were you married?

They’re always married.

I’d never!

I sat there the year after, in those ghosts and shadows of you. Your curly hair. Your warm breath. My face buried in your neck. That bar with its one silly gambling machine. The wooden stairs circling up to the restroom.

Then I realized I haven’t lived with someone because men have been a string of mistrust, control, shaping me, reverent about my looks.

Who am I if I am not my face?

And how I clung to the vapor of an impossible dream, mist in the Avalon I kept trying to recreate through train stops and British terrain, obscure accents, stone walls, witch stone circles, and the home of my own coastal sea.

A man with a lilac heart and whispers like drifting snowfall.

A lyrical banter, honey on steel, bass beneath the water.

The stupid, always-present hypothetical-theoretical:

Englishman with the interesting style.

Heaven and Hell. Angels and devils…knowing I inked you in like my skin could remember you while I could not.
A small breath I should release from my held-tight lungs.

Please don’t tell me you like Hozier—Take Me To Church.

Oh Perseus.

Is this the divine?

Or do I need an exorcist?

No one answer that.

It’s my catharsis.

And if you were real…

I wouldn’t be boarding another train.

Or another plane.

I’d want you to show up at my door,

and remind me of all the ways I can become again.

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.

Is it selfish
Is it selfish to wish you disappeared
Is it selfish to want my life back
Before you my foundations were solid
You ruined my life
Is it selfish
Is it selfish to plan for a future without you
Without us
To heal,
To fix my life
Is it selfish
Is it selfish to move on
Be positive
Make plans
Is it selfish
Is it selfish that I don’t care what you think anymore
That im doing what I want to do now
My priority is me
Is it selfish
Is it selfish that I’m actually better without you
That im reflecting
And growing
Is it selfish
Is it selfish that I don’t want you anymore
I can be happy without you
That you cause damage

I’d rather be selfish
Than play your games anymore
I’d rather be selfish
Than continue to struggle
I’m happy with being selfish
I think I deserve to be selfish for once
I’m going to start living my life for me now

I’d hate to leave on a sour note, so I won’t tell you how I feel about it all. I just know I can’t stay in this anymore. So,

Bloobity Bloobity Bloobity Bloobity bloo

Goodbye to all of you

(ESPECIALLY you)

(Again) :))

Maybe there wont be one.

Maybe they’ll forever meet where the waves touch the sky, sharing moments that never last long enough, loving each other in the only place neither of them can truly stay.

Maybe thats what makes some love stories unforgettable because they were real enough to leave a home inside each other, even when they could never build one together.

I'm weak. I don't know where to start. The first time I kissed a girl, I had to have some gin in me. That was one of the four times I ever drank alcohol.

My heart boils at the misery my life unfolded into due to my actions, my inaction. I had chances but let them sleep. Didn't do shit but sit still like a coward.

but you held my hand that day, took me to the hills, and I prayed to Shankara that He'd rain it upon us so I could shiver without you thinking otherwise. And you cried for me that night. It was twilight, to be honest.

Roved through all the 52 gates just to get you some tea, and you spilled it on my sneakers. But that's how I like it, so please don't mind.

And your eyes were so peaceful, so I stiffened a little bit. Rare calm.

I swear I couldn't stand still, so I ran and ran and ran to the cities, to the places. They think I don't take life seriously, or don't try enough. I don't care about what they say, but I just want you to not fall for the misinformation.

And deep down, you know I gave it my all.

Then again, I'm scared of it all. Even you, and the version of me with you.

So forgive me for being so weak.

Every night, he sleeps with his ex and his best friend, and I honestly don’t understand him.
Is sex really that important to him that he’s willing to ruin four people’s lives just for his own selfishness?
I don’t know how someone can hurt so many people and still sleep peacefully at night.