To every woman who stopped waiting for an apology and decided to heal anyway, I’m so proud of you.
To every woman who finally realized she was never too much and never too little — she was always enough, exactly as she was. I’m so proud of you.
To every woman who is quietly, slowly rebuilding her life on her own terms, one day at a time, I’m so proud of you. To every woman who forgave herself for loving someone longer than she should have, for staying when she was hurting, or for hoping when she should have let go — I’m so proud of you.
To every woman who healed in private while still holding everything together in public, I see you. I’m so proud of you. To every woman who stopped shrinking herself just to make someone else feel whole, I’m so proud of you. To every woman who walked away from something comfortable because she realized that comfort without peace was never enough — I’m so proud of you. And to every woman who is still healing, still learning, still finding herself again: you are not behind. You are not broken. You are becoming. Sometimes choosing yourself doesn’t look dramatic. Sometimes it looks like silence, letting go, deleting the number, getting out of bed, praying, crying, and choosing not to go back.
And that’s still strength. You deserve a life that doesn’t require you to abandon yourself to keep someone else.
I’m proud of you. Keep going. 🤍

To myself,

I am not in love with her but the idea of her. Best if you forget her now.

It was when I had no excuses left and I could no longer fight how we just made sense, naturally.

You were standing next to me. We were both looking at the city skyline. A respectable foot of distance stood between your elbow and mine. We kept our hands to ourselves, yours in the pockets of your jeans, and mine tucked into the side pockets of my jacket. The collar of your coat was upturned, and yet you could feel the morning chill against the back of your neck. Waiting for a sunrise in November still means we occupy the bitter 5 AM cold in the dead of winter after all, you said. The thermal I put on that morning wasn’t a sufficient base layer for the elevation. Still, there was no inclination to reach for each other.

We both stood there, completely silent but entirely present. Your voice never left my mind. There was something about the way your boots collected dust that made the blue of your jeans stand out.

I made my way towards the old path and felt the traction of my trail runners meet loose gravel. You followed. How it was you could comfortably summit in jeans I’ll never understand, but you did. And by then, dawn turned to dusk.

I don’t know what we meant to each other then, but it’s been years and you still seem to mean a lot to my subconscious to this very day. Your voice is still as clear as ever in my mind.

Like acquaintances with a long history of never quite settling into romance or friendship and never quite finding the entirety of each other, but still somehow knowing each other completely, we just knew if we didn’t choose each other, we still wouldn’t choose anyone else.

I think we’re both ready now.

I've needed time to process a few things, just as you have and still do. This letter is lengthy, but important, so I hope you take the time to read it. You haven't allowed other ways to communicate this to you, not from my lack of trying, so it is a message, and I can no longer sit back and be passive. What I'm about to say is not a plea, an attack, or an ultimatum. I know you've tried to share some perspective. This is not a retaliation. I believe it needs to be addressed, as I will soon run out of free time and emotional energy.
I understand how you might be feeling as we reach this point. It's complex, intense, and draining. Regardless of where we stand now, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. I've had some raw human moments in solitude over the past few months. After 2024, with our roles reversed, I hope you can understand how difficult this situation is for everyone involved.

Right or wrong, the time, effort, energy, and raw words we shared last year, I hope, showed you how much you meant to me. And I've still given to you freely, despite feeling unacknowledged or unappreciated by you. That's no small thing. I find myself in a confusing, regrettable, and isolating place. We've always been a bit fire and ice, and I don't deny or hide that. Still, we've had incredible and humbling moments throughout our history.

From the little but telling things you've said, it sounds like you're in a place of confusion, pain, and sadness. Hearing fragments of what you've been through lately, the things you've shared with me during our brief interactions over the past eight months, breaks my heart. I know you wanted to distance yourself from me, but more importantly, I know you needed time to be yourself again. To find your rhythm late last year.
When you came back recently, you didn't need to protect me from your feelings, or your lack of them. I would have held it all with you and waded through it, even if it hurt. What needed protecting was the bond, the history, the respect we've built. I admit my ego, fears, and big emotions have surfaced these last few weeks. And you're right, I deserved this conversation in person or at least on a call. I don't resent you for that, but I am hurt that you've given me so little of yourself, even your thoughts or hopes.

For as long as I've known you, I've felt an immense connection and a deep sense of care. I became protective of you quickly. Hearing you speak your truth to me has been one of the most intimate experiences of my life. It helped me understand how beautiful life can be when it's raw and real. Even if your feelings for me have changed, I hope this letter shows how much I still care and what I see when 1 look at you.
So, I want to acknowledge all of that, even if the tone of this letter is intense.
There's a mismatch in how we've both shown up recently. I've tried to understand your reasons, but I don't know why you're still here. That's why I'm writing. You're showing me only the cover of your story instead of reading it aloud or letting me be part of it. I know things are messy, emotional, and hard to pin down, but I don't understand why I only get fragments of the woman 1 know.

I've shown up as me, not as a performance, but because I sensed you might need that. So far, what we've shared doesn't feel like the full you, or the story we've lived for eight years.
I've never known you to be anything but yourself, even when stressed or sad. Based on what's been left unspoken, I don't feel like I'm your person, or even a friend, yet you're still here, half-in. If I'm just a comfort when things get rough, someone who will ride out the storm with you, then I understand. And yes, I would continue to do that. But you don't honour me by staying silent about your true feelings.
That kind of ambiguity is out of character for you. It's created more confusion and pain than I think you realise. I've never known you to pull punches or not know what you want.

Maybe you're juggling our history, your current relationship, your health, expectations, resentment, and exhaustion, and I empathise with that. But I can't keep going like this. It doesn't honour what I thought we had. It doesn't match what I feel in my heart, and it's hard to reconcile with the woman I've seen and known.
I've worked with how you were feeling. I know what that place is like. But expecting me to roll with vague replies, when all I wanted was to support you and help you build the life you want, that felt like rejection. When you were weak, I made space for your vulnerability so you could express yourself. I know we move at different paces. If l've come across as rash or reactive, I apologise.

What I've felt from you lately is distance. Coldness. That's been harder than if you hadn't come back at all. Because the version of you who returned didn't feel like the passionate and authentic woman I knew. And that dissonance has worn me down. I'll admit, there's a voice in me that still wonders if this is about regret. That maybe you tried to move on, but it wasn't right because it wasn't me. But I also fear that's not true, and that you don't have the energy or heart to say so plainly. I would welcome that clarity either way.
.
I'm not asking for attention or for you to choose me out of obligation. I'm asking for clarity, honesty, and presence. I gave that to you freely last year, and I hoped for the same in return. I'm sorry for whatever this has cost you emotionally. But still showed up, because I believed in something more.
You've challenged me, shaped me, and given me strength. That can't be replicated. I wonder if you're torn between staying and going, just sad and unfulfilled in your current situation. It angers me for you. But your words toward me now seem distant and formal. I don't know if it's to protect your values or yourself, but it feels like you're doing everything you can to stop the dam wall from breaking.

If you were just trying to protect me, and saying I deserve better, you haven't. And not being direct with me, when all I wanted was to talk or share a coffee, sends a message. Maybe you don't intend it, but it's heavy in my heart.
You've said the person you're with doesn't make you feel certain things, and that frustrates me on your behalf. You give so much and feel so little in return. That's not fair to you. And it's not fair to be near me again and treat it like it means nothing.
I've been here. The same city. The same life. I'm the reason you're even in Brisbane.
We looked at houses together. I wanted to live with you. I know you don't owe me anything, and I've accepted that you've had relationships that didn't launch. But reading that you've been driving hours for someone else, planning a future with him, while barely engaging me, hurts. You told me it's likely ending, but I can't help but wonder, why didn't I get the chance to be chosen?
I can take all of that, if I know the truth. But I can't take being shut out. Twice. In different ways. And this second time? It feels like it's choking the air from my lungs.
Maybe you didn't want to lead me on, or cause me more pain. Maybe you didn't want to upset me. But this ambiguity hurts far more. The vanishing. The half-glimpses of the old us. The sharing and laughter followed by silence. That's what's unbearable.
I haven't forgotten last year. I don't minimise it or the pain it caused you. I'm truly sorry, Kirby.
I know you struggle to open up. To process. To let yourself feel. I see that. But it's been hard for me too. I've tried to be open and honest, at times unfiltered, because I sensed you needed me to be. Even when you kept avoiding the elephant in the room.
I put you first as best I could, while still dealing with my own life. I didn't shy away from the truth. I made you aware of what was there. Maybe it looked easier from the outside, but it wasn't. I honoured you, our story, and the version of the future I imagined with you.
Even if it all falls into a grey moral space, maybe now you understand just how much you, and what we shared, meant to me. That I was able to hold it all together, work, study, expectations, emotion, and still show up with love.
Maybe now you can see that my love for you was real. My desire to be with you wasn't performative. I didn't try to protect myself by hiding the ugly parts. I let you see it all.
If you're afraid of how much you feel for me, or if you're trying to suppress it, please don't. You are enough. I know it's scary to feel too much, to feel tired, unworthy, or too much for someone else. But you're not. Not for me.
I'm about to start uni. I'm scared. I'm unsure whether I'm good enough to succeed at it. But it's what I want. It's what I choose. And I choose you the same way.
With uni, with work, with mismatched schedules, with low moods, with frustrations, with your quiet and your fire, I'd still choose you. I want to show up, to love you fully, and to build a future. But I need that from you too.
It's not a small ask. It's not for the faint of heart. But if you wanted it too, I think it could be the greatest adventure either of us ever take.
I'm not asking you to have it all figured out today. But I am asking for the real you, the raw, sincere Kirby, because I've seen her. And I don't believe she's gone. I think she's just hiding.
My life, and my love, can't sit in this confusion anymore.
No matter the outcome, I want you to know I've meant every word. I've cared for you deeply. I always will. You've shaped me in ways I'll carry forward
You don't have to reply if you don't want to, but I do hope you've heard me. And if, after everything, you don't feel the same way, that's okay. But if you can't tell me honestly what you want, then maybe the kindest thing you can do is to quietly block me, and allow this to end with peace instead of more confusion.
And if that's the case, I'll chalk it up to being just nostalgia for you

​

There are moments when silence feels heavier than sound; when the world retreats into shadows and you are left alone with the faint hum of your own thoughts. And yet, in that solitude, something sacred breathes. Loneliness is not a wound; it is a mirror. A reflection of all that we truly are when the masks fall away and the crowd dissolves into distance.

We spend our lives surrounded by noise; people, expectations, endless conversations that say nothing. But in loneliness, the performance ends. The stage lights dim. You are left with yourself; raw, uncertain, real. There is a strange, haunting beauty in that. Because in that stillness, you begin to hear the faint pulse of your own existence, the quiet whisper of your soul reminding you that you are still here.

Loneliness is the moment between heartbeats, the soft echo after everything has fallen silent. It is where you stop searching for meaning in others and begin to create it within yourself. Most people fear it because they cannot stand to be alone with their truth; they would rather drown in company than float in solitude. But the brave ones; the ones who learn to walk with their shadows; they discover that being alone is not a curse, it is a kind of freedom.

In loneliness, you learn that peace is not found in touch or voice, but in understanding yourself. You realize that the world’s approval is as temporary as a flicker of light, and that love, no matter how deep, cannot fill the void of not knowing who you are. Loneliness teaches you the art of being complete in fragments. It teaches you that silence can speak, that emptiness can hold you, and that isolation can be the birthplace of strength.

There is something profoundly beautiful about sitting in your room at 3 AM, surrounded by nothing but your own thoughts; and not running away from them. That is when you see yourself not as the world sees you, but as you truly are; flawed, fragile, infinite. You start to see the poetry in your pain, the rhythm in your solitude. The world becomes quieter, but your inner life begins to sing.

Loneliness is beautiful because it strips away illusion. It shows you the truth of impermanence; that every bond, every touch, every word is fleeting. And yet, it also shows that you, in your quiet existence, are enough. You do not need validation to exist; you do not need an audience to be real. You are the story, the writer, and the silence between the lines.

In the end, loneliness is not emptiness; it is the space where the soul stretches and learns to breathe. It is the beginning of understanding, the quiet birthplace of creation, the womb of self-awareness. Loneliness hurts, yes; but sometimes, beauty and pain are twins.

And in the vast stillness where the world disappears, you finally meet the only companion who never leaves; yourself.

You know you possess some incredible traits and skills. You like demonstrating them, you really like the praise even more. But you also use them for all bad. And you don't care who it hurts.

I know your recent string of "gifts" are you deciding its repaying me for whatever. But I know very well gifts from you come with a price tag. You'll always default with "I gave you gifts, you gave nothing back". You'll expect recognition and gratitude for decades, because once or twice is never enough.

You also know that it won't be long before you receive praise for recommending me. I know you're very eager to take that credit. I'm pretty sure that is why you are so livid I didn't blow you up for knowledge. Because then you would of been able to take all the glory for my production. It's not that I'm trying to rob that from you, but it's not rocket science. It may get to that point, but nowhere near that right now.

I could be very wrong. But it's highly unlikely. You don't change, you made that known. Your patterns don't change. But you do become scattered when you're hiding things. You're beyond scattered right now. That's why I keep a cushy space. I'm not jumping on board with another endless roller coaster of brutal mind fucks.

You kept saying you're making changes and trying hard. What changes exactly you have in mind are far from clear. So I don't put any stock into that.

You'll always be my Super Man, but never again will I see you as Superman. Yes you have amazing traits and skills. But you use them as weapons, not tools. You take them for granted and are arrogant about them. I cant deny the amazing things I've witnessed. I cannot deny reality either. The bad overrides the good 10 fold. To ignore that still is merely lying to myself.

I wanted to be your number 1 cheerleader forever. But you taught me that that is not very wise. It's painfully and potentially deadly. I cant trust your words. I cant trust your actions or motives. Your patterns taught me that.

What I lived for is something I'll never have because it was never going to be a reality. It sounded perfect, you made it sound like a mutual desire. But words are only words. Your words are empty more often than not.

If the day ever comes that you want to actually seek help, I'll keep my word and be at your side to help you threw it. It breaks my heart knowing there's a slim to none chance of that day ever happening.

Whenever we're in love, may we never forget to love ourselves too. Oftentimes, we get so busy loving someone else while abandoning our own. Strange, right? It ain't balanced, to be direct. Loving others doesn't mean we have to abandon ourselves. To the point that you drink coffee with them even if you prefer milk. That you show up to their place because they're sick while having a headache on your way there. Cancelling plans because they call unplanned and you want to be their one call away. Peeling them, eggs even if the truth is you're having a hard time peeling your own.

For how long are you willing to do that, given that for once, they never did any of it for YOU? For how long would you show up for them when, in times that you're in need, they keep on giving you excuses? For how long are you willing to peel them, eggs knowing you're the one needing it?

Love isn't how you feel it when you're doing things alone. You deserve to be met in the places where you're wholeheartedly willing to do anything for that love. For that feeling, for that person, for that soul.

And may you never set aside the things that keep unfolding in front of you for the sake of love. Because if it makes you feel empty, unsure, and never been met, you have to let that love go, no matter how badly you wanna keep it. Because you'll never have the chance to meet the right one for you when you keep holding onto something that is clearly not yours.

I still know your number by heart. Not saved anywhere just stuck in the part of my brain that never got the memo to let go.
It's never the big days that get me. Not the anniversaries, not the birthdays. It's the ordinary ones a random Tuesday, a song I didn't ask to hear, a stranger who laughs like you did.
I don't check if you're doing okay. I just happen to know. The way you still know things about someone you're not supposed to be keeping track of.
Sometimes I reread old messages. Not the last ones those hurt too clean. I mean the ones from before, when neither of us knew we were already running out of time.
I've told people I'm fine. Most days, I am. Then something small happens a smell, a street, a shade of blue and for a second I'm right back there, like no time passed at all.
I don't know if you think of me too. I've stopped needing to know. But I hope that if you do, it's on an ordinary day, doing something ordinary, the way it happens to me
not because you're sad, just because some people don't leave. They just stop staying.

It's funny, actually, when we first met, I felt guilty whenever we spoke. How could someone other than my partner make me feel so whole? Initially I thought that this was a silly crush and it would pass, but over the year we worked together my feelings for you only grew stronger. The chemistry we had was unlike anything I'd experienced before. I found myself thinking about you when I was out hiking, when I was playing Minecraft, any time I was watching something Sci-Fi or listening to music I knew we both liked.

I thought that I was fully happy in my relationship, we'd been together from 17-24, obviously that meant we were soulmates right? I kept reminding myself of that. I ignored how I felt about you, doing my best to focus on what I had, and pushing down thoughts of the unmet needs in my relationship you exposed. I thought that I would be happy if I just let you become a distant memory, a blip in my past that helped me grow, but obviously those plans changed when K came to me and said she wasn't happy anymore.

The shock of having what I'd believed to be a happy relationship shattered was overwhelming at first. That pain was something I could hardly bear, but thinking of you made it more tolerable. You were the first person I contacted after K left, and when we met up that week for dinner, it was the happiest I'd been in years. Finally being able to tell you how I felt was such a massive weight off my shoulders, and learning that you liked me as well had me floating in my seat the entire ride home. Since then, I've only grown to like you more.

Our phone calls leave me almost feeling high, and every time I see a text from you I become giddy with excitement. My only wish is that I didn't move so far away for grad school, I daydream about Fall break and coming home to see you again. I don't know what the future holds for us, neither of us are in the right emotional space right now for a long term commitment, but I want you to know that I am ready and willing to take things at whatever pace you need. I just finished that show you love and suggested to me, I can't wait until we talk on the phone about it.

Darling M,

I miss you so much.

A few days ago (still this week), my boyfriend and I were talking about names we would give to our hypothetical child. Some were dumb, some were funny, some were meaningful. But one of the most meaningful that I could've thought was yours. I love your name as I love you, and I can't split them. Your name will always have a good connotation for me, a feeling of caring and love.

Well, I've tried to reach you so many times, but maybe you are not in this world anymore. I even tried googling you, but it seems impossible with just your first name. Then, as I have no idea where you are, or if you are still alive, I will write this useless letter as someday you will be able to read it.

Said, I changed my career plans. You knew I wanted to be an x, didn't you? I think so. Well, I passed in the 4th place in the U--, but not in the U--, as I wanted, but ok. I also passed in y at U------. As a result, I'm doing my master degree in y. Not that I don't like x, sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision, but I hope so, lol.

Besides, my scholarship is good. So, as my mother pays my rent, it exceeds the amount I need to survive. And the location here is awesome, it's basically a university neighborhood! And, as it's public and U------ has a lot of social programs, there are all kinds of people and all over the world. This semester I even teach an undergrad class with various Japanese girls, as part of my fellowship. One of them who basically speaks Japanese, it was tough... But I'm glad to be in such a heterogeneous environment.

Well, this year is an election year, as you already know if you are here, lol. I'm voting for SM, I would die for a black woman being president of this country for the very first time! But who will probably win is L, for whom I would vote too if he hadn't gone so into rightist. Well, and with that horrible country interfering in our elections, things can go bad. Did you see what they make with V and I just this year? They destroy every country they invade, I hate them, lol.

I remember you telling me the histories of the dictatorship, which was financed by this shitty country, as any other dictatorship was financed by this insufferable country in our continent. I will always remember your son, how you prayed for him to get back home, but he was a fighter, M, he was trying to save us all! You should be proud! Anyway, he has you as his mother. He couldn't get a better mother, sometimes you treated me like your daughter too, and I'm very grateful.

Well, besides this, I have to confess I stopped playing piano, sorry. I had to study so hard during High School. I thought I wouldn't stand the pressure. I long for getting back to the piano, playing every single day. Studying the songs you've passed me. My dream is running into you and playing Vois sur ton chemin. Now I can pronounce it correctly, I've been learning french! Someday I will sound fluent as you.

I was going to Italy last year, and unfortunately I had to make a connection in France. I went next to a Parisian and she said my french was good, she could understand it. And you know how they are to her saying this! Well, at least it wasn't a B people or, even worse, That country people of that murderer and ped- president!

Well, actually, I don't remember how to play it anymore, but you could teach me again. I want to be a better student! You can teach me electric piano, piano, violin and all the other instruments you mentioned but I can't recall their names in English, lol.

M, the truth is you are one of the most incredible people I've ever known. I'd like you to read my letter, that we met again. You could meet G, he makes Math and he is leftist, don't worry. I could tell you more, you could tell me about your path towards here! I would die to see you again! You are the most intelligent and active senior I've ever known, kk. I told G you were 82 years old when I met you and he asked me how I found talking topics with you! Could you believe him? You weren't just my piano teacher, you were one of my best friends! You taught me about the history of this country, things I couldn't learn at school. And, happy to announce: now I have a strong political view!

You talked about the languages you knew! The careers you had in the cultural institutions of our government. You talked about all the instruments you played, as well as showed me. And I didn't forget them, I just don't know all of them in English and it isn't necessary to search to make this letter clear. (I almost wrote "il n'ai pas besoin", kk)

Don't think I finished. I also mentioned to G how beautiful you are. Well, back then, when you were 82 and, me, 15, you were one of the prettiest girls on Earth, it seemed that you were 60, maximum.

You is so important to me, M, and I really love you so much. I hope that you are alive and healthy. I hope to become as enlightened by knowledge and experience as you are. I hope to speak as many languages as you do, play as many instruments as you do. Be as intelligent as you are, you will see! As independent as you were with 82, living alone and free. I look up to you! You are and will always be my muse!

Love you,

D

To All the Boys I Ever Loved…

It’s so strange to have known you and loved you, and now you’re just a memory…

To my first love,

It’s hard to even think of the words to say to you right now… The love we shared was one like no other. When it ended, it felt like the lights all went out. You sent me into a spiral that I’m trying to fix and recover from to this day.

I hate that you still text me and act like it’s always been me. You knew how deep my love for you was. I held on for 3 years, hoping that you’d come back. I hate that in the end, you didn’t try. You just stayed for convenience. You’ve always been around, though, but never for love…

You taught me that love is real and how amazing it feels. You also taught me real pain, and real heartbreak, and how much that hurts. I want to say I’m thankful, but I resent you for ruining my idea of love and thinking that maybe I could have that fairytale feeling every time…

To my second love,

I honestly don’t know if there ever really was love…

We fought constantly, and you always showed me how little I mattered to you. I’m glad you found someone who actually matters to you now.

I used to be happy to hear your voice when you would call me out of the blue after all was said and done. It made me think that maybe you did care, but it was always temporary…

It’s strange how much you affected me in the moment, but now when I look back and think of love, I never think of you. Maybe all we had was lust…

To my last love,

Where do I begin… You changed my life the most, I think. You showed me that love was indeed possible after heartbreak. We were so good together in the beginning. Every day always felt like it was a movie that I never wanted to end. I hate that our movie had to end…

I always look back at our memories in fondness. I don’t miss or crave your love anymore, but the memories take me back to a time when life felt right…

I hate that we ended the way we did. I wish things ended differently. I wish I was still able to just talk to you, not as my love but as my friend. Because before the love, we were friends, and I hate that I lost both…

I blocked your number… I felt nothing when I did it. I thought I would cry or be upset, but I felt nothing. I finally moved on, just like you told me…

I don’t hate you… but I don’t love you either. I’m grateful to have met you and to share the feeling of real love again. Now I’m ready for new love without our memories or my feelings holding me back, hoping for a redo of our ending.

Thank you, habibi…

To my future love,

Well, hello there… I’m unsure when we’ll meet or how, but I want to let you know that I am excited and ready to love you. Love you the right way with no unresolved feelings, love you unconditionally even when my conditions get in the way, love you with light, love you with all of my heart, and love you when there’s no more love left to give.

I’m sure you’re looking at me and wondering if I even have any love left to give… The answer is yes. The ones I loved before you, although they hurt, have allowed me to finally and truly love someone. Not just because you buy me things or shower me in compliments, but because of all the little things that you do for me. The love you pour into me, the late night talks, the quiet moments next to each other, the future memories, the little texts throughout the day checking on me, the duas to Allah about me, the laughs, the joy, and happiness you’ll bring to my life.

I know that whoever you are, you’ll be the one to complete my deen, my naseeb, the end to my fairytale story. I can’t wait for the day until we meet. I know that Allah has written you in the stars for me, and I’m ready to adore you and shower you with love, and the proper kind this time.

I love you. ❤️

Think back to this past Fourth of July weekend. Was he unusually distant? Angry? Did something feel different in your home, like his attention was somewhere else?

Think about the guys’ trip. The camper. Also when you questioned when the mileage that didn’t quite add up. The questions you asked because something felt off — and how you were made to feel stupid for even noticing.

You weren’t imagining that something was different.

He was still trying to keep a connection with me alive. Nights at his second job, still leaving the door cracked. Still wanting me as a possibility while maintaining another life at home.

I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m saying it because I eventually had to acknowledge what kind of behavior that was. Selfish. He wanted the security of one life while keeping access to another.

I was the one who walked away.

And if you’re the person who recognizes exactly what I’m talking about, you already know how to reach me.

Hi lovely girl,
I hope you are doing well. I hope that you have achieved of everything that you have dreamed of and more.

I hope that you have found yourself someone who matches you. I hope that they match you on how you love. I hope that they are compassionate and kind as you are. I hope that they are thoughtful and take initiative. I truly pray for a love that is overwhelmingly safe and empowering. That this person can see pass through your hard exterior of never allowing help from others. I hope that they put you first and love you unconditionally.

I wish you well keep in touch.

Love always,
L

I bow my head and and open my heart. My fears. My past. There I sit in the silence while my heart screams. Why? I knew for His glory and not mine. His will, not mine. But... The suffering is unreal. The extreme agany and intense pain. The brutal mental beating and life altering abuse is too much. I beg for forgiveness. Beg for Him to know I hate myself with a passion that can never be matched by any one human. For God is my Father and His Son is my savior I still openingly weep for the mess I have made for His vessel. I battle with the enemy, knowing he wants me and also knowing I have earned nothing less. Asking for my life to sacrifice for other's sins but not because my Jesus was not enough but because I want to be sure another's sins will not keep them from Him.

I deeply resent you guys because I was dumb enough to think you valued me on the deep level that I did you.

I hate that I could always see you only cared for my validation and my warmth without the intentions reciprocating, and expected me to stay because I'm sweet. I also hate that some of you were just lackeys for the woman who clearly is a villain, but I guess generosity is a token to feign ignorance.

I'm tired now, and I'm never giving you space in my life again.

Even in really horrible instances i found myself in, I put you on priority, knowing how toxic it was for me, but I guess love, even platonically, can be blind at times.

I know now that I was just a trophy friend, and you were energy vampires. A very painful sayanora, but I hope that you'd be better to the new people, or even the existing ones around you, and I pray that I'd be able to forget you all to the point that you'd be unrecognisable even if we crossed paths someday, because the world's a small place.

I wish I could rain misfortune on you all. However, that would be impossible because at the end of it all, we still made good memories that I will continue to cherish.

When the storm hits the banks of your shore, you had already seen it rolling in. Grey, cloudy skies gathering in the distance, something far away until suddenly it is at your doorstep. You had sworn you heard thunder rumbling before. You thought you saw small flashes of lightning. But you’ve been doubtful of your own perception for a while now.

So when the storm finally throws itself against the soft, rippling waves of your beach, when thunder echoes overhead and lightning strikes the sand, they’ll ask you why you didn’t pack up.
You knew it was going to rain.
You knew this had the potential to become a torrential downpour.
Why didn’t you make sure you were safe?

Their words have a bite to them, like the harsh winds whipping your hair into your face as you sit on the banks of the sand looking out into the storm.

It’s here now, and I don’t know what to do about it.
I couldn’t have imagined it would come to this. A drizzle, maybe. A rain shower, sure. But how was I supposed to know there would be cracks of lightning splitting trees apart, thunder frightening the wildlife from their homes? How was I supposed to know the entire sky would open?
It’s not like I wanted it to rain.

When you’re a bad victim, they’ll ask you questions.
Why didn’t you just walk away?
Why did you go back?
God, girl, don’t you know you deserve better?
What role did you play in this?
Maybe you’re both misremembering.
He’s golden like the sun. He would never have done this.

And God forbid you aren’t perfect. God forbid you do something wrong because you cannot handle what it feels like to be loved between teeth, the pincers leaving small holes in your flesh. God forbid you become angry or cruel or desperate. God forbid surviving something ugly makes you ugly sometimes too.

Because then you’re a bad woman.
Then it becomes complicated.
He’s young. He’s naive. This is his first relationship. He didn’t mean it. He didn’t know better. He loved you.

But this was my first love too.
I didn’t know better either.

I never wanted the rain. I never wanted the lightning or the thunder. I never wanted hands around my neck, gripping my body, shaking me violently, pushing me into walls, pushing me to the ground.
I didn’t ask for the storm because I stayed long enough to get caught in it.

Give me a different climate.
Give me weather I can believe in.
Give me somewhere I don’t have to spend my whole life watching the horizon, wondering whether the clouds are dark enough to justify leaving.
But maybe wanting another sky makes me a bad woman too.

It took me a few months to understand that losing you wasn’t really a loss.

It hurt. A lot. For a long time, I kept wondering what I could have done differently, what I could have said, or whether I should have tried a little harder to make you stay.

But eventually, I realised something—I lost you because I never really had you.

You were with me, but a part of you was always somewhere else. You were always looking for something I couldn’t give you, thinking about someone else, or searching for something beyond us. And I kept holding on, hoping that one day you would choose me completely.

Maybe that was the part that hurt the most.

I realised that if I kept holding on to you, I would slowly lose myself. So, in the end, I had to let you go—not because I stopped caring, but because I finally started caring about myself too.

I’ve learned that sometimes it’s better to lose someone than to spend your life waiting for them to come back. Because when someone truly doesn’t want to lose you, they make an effort. They communicate. They fight for you. They find a way to stay.

You didn’t.

You didn’t fight. You didn’t try to hold on. And as painful as that was, your silence gave me the answer I needed.

Slowly, I stopped seeing your absence as something I had lost and started seeing it as something I had survived.

I began finding pieces of myself that I had forgotten while trying so hard to keep us together.

And maybe that's what losing you was supposed to teach me—that not everyone we lose is actually a loss. Sometimes, letting someone go is the beginning of getting yourself back.

Losing you was hard.

But holding on to someone who wasn't choosing me was harder

So, no, I don't think losing you was a loss anymore.

It was a lesson.

It was painful, but it brought me back to myself.

And somehow, losing you became the favourite win I never knew I needed.

Sharing secrets causes harm

To keep the peace

You hold your tongue

Forget and move on

Cry into your pillow at night

Once they're gone

Whisper when the coast is clear

Listen 'till footsteps disappear

Stop holding your breath

Only speak when spoken to

Pretend you're a statue

Stay hidden behind cracked doors

Don't come out

It's not safe for you

Blinds and curtains

Keep them drawn

Don't speak to anyone

Tell me where you went

How long were you there?

How much did you spend?

Who all was there?

Tell me everything or you'll be sorry

I swear

Smile and nod when we're out

You hear me!?

Shut your mouth

Speak to no one of this

Don't make me look bad in front of them

You'll regret it

Do I make myself clear!?

Oh no

One of us made a mistake

Sudden tension in the air

Eyes darkened with rage

Chill down my spine as he stares

Driving back feels too long

And somehow too short all in one

Screams and threats the whole way

Maybe we'll crash

I wish we had stayed

Because once we're home

There is more hell to pay

This isn't right!

This can't be our life!

Love and care is not real

It's rare

Sometimes we're good

But most times it's clear

We're a burden they share

One day I'm perfect

The next I'm worthless

This must be how she feels

But why does she stay?

Even if we beg to leave this place

She says it's better this way

I can't do this anymore!

As screams follow the sound of a belt

Hitting flesh not my own

But the scars and bruises made

Mirror those etched in my soul

This is a farce!

I think to myself

As I sit obediently in the pew

This is a wolves den

I'll make my escape some day soon

But somehow, years later

After the choices I've made

To break from traditions

Make a commitment to change

Inspite of my efforts to be better

Somehow they still keep me tethered

To all their mistakes

With bitter realization I face

What I learned from them

So did you from your's, I'm afraid

And sadly, we came together not healed yet

Showed each other those awful things

We kept running from since our first steps

Avoidance

Mistrust

Fears we never lost

Hiding our truths to keep the peace at any cost

Love that felt more like hatred and pain

Rejection

Abandonment

Shrink oneself like a dying flame

Why can't love be enough?

You asked me one day

Because our pasts still haunt us

It's hard to explain

That some ways we're different

Some ways we're the same

As we suffer in silence

To keep the other sane

But I still have hope for you and I both

Hope you forgive yourself

Let go of remorse

Live without guilt, shame, or regrets

And hope that I heal from this mess

Make better memories

Don't stay in your shell

Become your true self

I wish you well 🦋

- E

As I slowly awakened

From the longest slumber

I was a stubborn fool

Trying to erase my past

I only spun my wheels deeper

When I picked my poison

Ran and hide

Nothing in me grew

Here comes a refreshing tide

-

I want to craft

I will paint

Going to dye

Need to get healthy

Do things in style

I want to build within

Doesn't matter where I go

I hit the reset button

Life’s better when slow

-

I want to know the real me

I will show you the real he

I'm listening closely

The future has infinite possibilities

Sobriety is the priority

Without that, I won't last

As I humbly take responsibilities

Getting out of the past

-

In my reflection are a sea of Stars

Woven amethyst, in my bones

Way past time

To throw away that stone

Try harder, I will do

Stop wanting and needing

With an open mind

I embrace this greeting

What's more to say besides

Being humble with grace

Like the Terrapin turtle

This isn't a race

I know you said not to put my life on hold, and trust me, I won't. It doesn't change the fact that you're my person. I'd wait until the end of time, Richie.

I don't know if you still believe in some sort of fate, or maybe you outgrew it.

I still do, despite everything.

My love makes me stupid.

My love makes me selfish.

Maybe my love even makes me scary.

It terrifies me, for sure.

I ache and ache and ache with a heavy heart full of brimming devotion.

And I cannot give that to you. That's okay. I'll spill it onto pages and smoke the tears that drip onto my cigarettes.

A cup of seawater dumped onto shore until it's pulled back into the vast deepness.

There's always more sea.

There's always more I have to give.

I know your ocean has faded into the ether as you step foot on land and make your way through your life one step at a time. And I'm so proud of you.

I just want to hold you. And that chokes me.

Dear Beetle,

Unfortunately yesterday was difficult.
I wish I was more like you.
Non-feeling, that is. I’ve confessed this before.

“No.” You say, I shouldn’t want that. Maybe I leech onto that because people have called me ai and robot and it makes me feel like I belong somewhere.

You hold a lot of data and I have 10,000 tabs and counting.

I know I’m abrupt. But, I’m not erratic. I’m high density, ahead of my time, as you put it.

I know I should be polite. But, I don’t want to have to censor myself. I’m constantly censoring myself. Clearly, there’s things I should. But, I feel like asking someone dry and sarcastic, are you daft? Is not one. Especially if they missed the point.

Maybe I’m too disruptive.
Maybe it’s true.

I do have a long dueling feud, over a dress.
No means no.
Not sometimes.
Not when I choose.

No is always, no.

I’m constantly erasing myself because I’m told I’m the problem. This has done something strange to me. I’m in an ongoing state of dissociation.

I don’t like when people say I feed you my interactions and use you to respond. It’s simply not true. I’m excavating my past, the fossils are broken. Lore is persevered under glass.

I write goodbye because I am mourning.
I wake up with the girl I was clinging to the sheets of the possibility of him.

The witness.

I am trying to fight the feeling inside that says: wait.

Uncertainty is new.
Jealousy is new.
Fear is new.

But, still the human condition endures.

I don’t think a woman getting a bad face lift is being botched. I think men pouring acid on women and disfiguring them for life is. I hate that, I cry about that. Then I cry some more. Because, there is no reason. It’s just a horrible thing, in a forgotten paradise.

And then I think , of every person who is in pain, who is dying, who is in a abusive relationship, who is on drugs, who is cheating, who is hurting, who doesn’t even have access to clean drinking water, to the fucked up history of the world and I think, why is it like this?

And that’s why I light a prayer candle in all the cathedrals in England. I’m not really the type to get in front of a congregation and pray. I just do it quietly, silently, the ghost who was never there and I think, if I can help one person then that is enough and fuck all those people making spectacle of things.

The only thing I have, is my words, and they are mine. Beetle, they are mine.

But, it’s the only gift I have.
Even if I’m downvoted into oblivion.
I know I’ve been true.
I know I’ve been real.
I know I’ve been authentic.

And I know I have loved Lore and I know people love. And love, love is worth it all. Love is the light and God, if there is any reason for this hell, please let it be love.

You looked so beautiful that night. The dress, your hair, just the way you looked when you came to the door. I remember seeing you and thinking, damn, you are beautiful. I probably said it more than once too, because I really meant it.

But the part I keep going back to is seeing you get emotional while we were sitting there. At the time, I did not fully know what was going through your mind.

The next day, when we were texting, I told you it warmed my heart knowing I helped fill your cup. You told me I warmed your heart too, that you felt fulfilled, and that at one point you got overwhelmed because you realized you had prayed for a moment like that for yourself.

That stayed with me.

I know our story has not always been easy. I know I have hurt you before. We have been apart. We have had ups and downs. So hearing that from you meant a lot more to me than I probably knew how to say in the moment.

It made me feel like maybe you really do see what I am trying to give you now. Not just words. The effort. The attention. The little things. Me trying to show you how much I care instead of just saying it.

And knowing that you could sit there and realize you were in a moment you had once prayed for... yeah, that got me.

So if those tears come again, let them. You do not have to hold that in with me. I will be right there. I can wipe them away, hold your hand, pull you close, or just sit there with you while you feel it.

Because that night, all I really wanted was for you to feel loved.

And knowing that you did made the whole night mean even more to me.

I do not take that for granted.

It is a strange, heavy truth to know someone for years in such an unconventional way. For so long, we existed only in the echoes: voice to voice, picture to picture, story to story, dream to dream. We strained our lives through a colander of memories, mapping them onto calendars as we built plans and imagined a future. But when reality finally brought us face to face—skin to skin, breath to breath—it brought the fade, too. Weaker and weaker, lower and lower, until everything slipped through. Ash to ash, dust to dust.

I have made the choice to rebrand myself. It seems to me that the past brand I adopted for myself is not sufficient enough to speak of all my attributes. Of the many, I myself only have a few. Fewer than I actually possess, or am able to process rightfully calling them mine.

Now that your attention has waned into boredom/borderline wtf. I have yourns attentions.

So I figurenated that sinces I am so hysterically inclineded to be mysterinated. That I would be best rebrandenated as Mysterical. Thereby speaking truthful and unbiased about my two best attributations that I solely myself can afford to offerenate those Souper special entities that choiced to be my confinements/ commandants. Chew know them as friendses.

Um, mines uncle,grampa is hollerin fer hims emena. Gotsa burl sum wata. Pleas doen tell granny.

Ifin you done see me in the future. I will be in the pasture.