u/Emptythiscup

I want to make that right. Not by a fucking apology, I already did that against my better judgment when I instinctively knew you just needed to not hear from me. But I mean actually fix the problem and I have exhausted myself trying to do so. I spent a while on the phone with my cousin to see if he knew of anything I could do but I'd already taken the steps he suggested and seriously nothing happens. Unfortunately in a situation like this, you're way smarter than I am so yeah, you'd likely be better at fixing my error (I say that for lack of a better term. My nuke I guess) than I am. I am not talking about fixing this to smooth it over with you and be in your good graces I mean fixing it for you. I keep forgetting how serious this is for you because we are obviously totally different in that way and I definitely could follow suit because I've gotten myself into situations over how loose I am with shit. But then I see something and I remember and really think it through and what it means and how this was probably the actual worst thing I could have done to you specifically and I start freaking out again with absolutely no clue on how to correct it. And I just want to ask you what to do but I obviously can't do that and I am sorry. I really am a fucking nightmare and just need to stay clear away from people. I could drop literal paragraphs on how and why this was so deeply wrong. But it wouldn't change anything and I am sorry. I am so sorry.

I try to make it neat and tidy and palatable but that just still feels so wrong. It feels like a tv dinner. It is technically right and consumable and appropriate but it tastes gross and leaves one wanting.

I am sick with want for you and I don’t expect that to be your problem at all. It is mine and it is gross and trifling but real and muddy and infected. My want is a fucking disease. I have the skill to package this up. Freeze dry and preserve it and make it shelf stable. But it just wants the maggots. It wants the flies. It does not want the consumer it just wants to consume. Do you understand what I am getting at, Johnson?

This thing I feel for you wants to fucking level very good and stable and arable and arable land. So what should I do with it if not build a fucking altar to you? I know this is wretched and incurable so what exactly is the cure for how wretched it is? It is a cancer… which doesn’t introduce new bad cells but corrupts and multiplies good cells, so what is the solution do you suppose? Because I think it would take curing cancer to cure what I feel for you.

I don’t know who would want or request such a feeling of insatiable want. That a genie would say “I’d grant three wishes but you can only imagine them, never to witness or experience them.” And in this moment it would be you, you, and you. The way you look when you drift off to sleep. What your eyelids look like. The rhythm of your chest and mouth when you breathe. What you do with your arms and legs when you toss and turn in the night. That’s already more than three and that’s the problem, I’m fucking greedy. Because I’d lull the genie into a trance and convince him my wishes were his idea. I’d rewrite the rules for you yeah that’s a fucking problem. This sounds romantic in this space but you can smell how psychotic it is through your screen. That my next wish would be to have some claim over you. That my arm and leg could envelope you, that I could have some say in your day and your thoughts and your wishes. I am literally obsessed with the state you grew up in because it will hold a place in your heart, good or bad, that I never will. I’m literally not joking I deep dived the region. The culture. The food. The must-haves. Because it made me feel close to you. My friends laughed and asked what place I was exploring now and I casually said oh I was thinking about moving there.

It’s a problem. Not romantic. Very Joe from You but without the physical proximity or desire to do literally anything other than scream it into the void. Imagine what productive thing I can do with it since it is here. I have dissected your bullet points. Your punctuation. Your emojis. And I have created a fucking SHRINE to you in my mind. You would be horrified. You should be. But where does that leave me if I just want out? That I want to break it and rid myself of it. Have the scraps carried away in the back of a truck. You would roll your eyes at all of this. It’s theatrical and wreaks of drama and whatnot but I’m literally on the same page. This does suck and does feel so full of nothing. What else should I say? What better way to say it? If this is really how I feel, what words can I string together that would make it the truest. I hate myself for this. I wish I could hate you instead. Instead, I’ll bleed it out here and hope someone else says hey been dying to hear this from my person. Because I’m dying over this. Not your problem. Boundaries. Respect. Projection. Lines. I would change my number if anyone in my life called me and told me these things. So no it’s not like I think this is some pretty love. It’s sick, disgusting, incurable, and I still want all of it. Fuck you.

How do we love our children before we even know them? We obviously cannot yet love their personality, their humor, their particular way of seeing the world because none of that has been revealed to us. And yet we love them profoundly before we even know who they are. It seems like we love people not entirely because of who they are but also because of what they represent. The meaning of their existence to us.

It’s like a parent finding out they are having a boy and dreaming of them playing baseball someday. The uniforms. The games. The cheering and laughter. And that little boy starts running around and he cannot throw a ball to save his life. Instead, he spends his time learning about money, history, politics, global affairs, and religion even as young as age 6. And then you get a more grounded idea of who he is and probably will become. And you watch in awe as they grow into a young man that was nothing like you imagined. But the representation is still completely in tact. If there is any disappointment it’s not because he didn’t get into sports, it’s because you realize you put him in a box that was too small to hold how great he is. And you learn over and over through parenthood to stop doing that.

I have had little crushes here and there in my life. I do not write love letters to crushes. Not the bearing my soul kind of letters. I wrote a few love letters to my ex but it was more about the life we had and the history we shared. It just never came out, I couldn’t get it out. I think I knew from the beginning it was wrong but I made it work more as a responsibility and I did love them. But this is different and it has only happened twice. I have not written love letters to every person I’ve had feelings for. Only two.

You do represent something that actually moves me. I have no trouble getting it out. I have a major problem keeping it in. It wants to spill out of me. Since the day I finally saw you, something shifted in me. Like a Rube Goldberg machine activated. Literally the same way it happened last time. It isn’t something you seek out. It’s like it somehow finds you. I can’t even explain it. And it always turns out that they were there all along somehow. You can’t help but feel like it’s cosmic. I don’t know your position on religion but I do believe we have souls and I believe some of our souls just somehow know other souls. That, to me, is the representation. Sure it can be expressed in different ways outwardly but the internal metrics are unwavering and blindingly bright.

I am deeply sorry for how things turned out and that you had to see my grossness. But even in anger and sadness I could write you novels. It had nothing to do with you, it’s my own personal issues and difficulty sorting my emotions. You are still the same person I fell completely head over heels for. And I say that lightly (ironic, I know) because I can’t help but be human and try to make meaning of things even when I logically know it doesn’t have to be a romantic thing. It’s just you. Period. That’s it.

Love can absolutely be based on representations. The important question is whether we eventually become capable of loving the person beyond the representation. Allowing them to disappoint our expectations and contradict our projections and still remain valuable even when they cease to serve the meaning we originally gave them. I will not get the chance to do that. Not with you. But that doesn’t diminish what I feel for you. No, I can’t sit next to you with bed head and make puns and jokes about how you take your coffee. I can’t watch you watch something you love. I can’t know what your skin feels like or what your nervous habits are. And yet, love persists just the same.

I can’t tell you how sorry I feel. No matter what I am currently going through or how my feelings were hurt, nothing justifies the way I acted. Literally nothing. It was beyond wrong. At some point I am going to send it to you directly, I just don’t know when or really if I even should. Because I don’t even know what’s the right thing to do in most situations anymore. I feel like I can’t trust my judgment. I feel like I need to apologize but I also know I literally just did that for another thing and this is probably exhausting for you at this point. And since I am WAY off on how I think people do or should or will act, I just don’t know what to expect. That has nothing to do with you. The shame and sheer embarrassment of how I acted makes me never want to talk to you again. But I don’t know how it is on your end. I don’t know if I hurt you. I don’t know if you saw me as yet another person crashing out and you just want to be done with the situation. So all I can do is think about what do I know would cause the least harm right now?  If apologizing could potentially hurt you even more by stirring up something you’ve already settled and are moving past, that wouldn’t be right. But if staying silent  makes you stay in paranoia that I may explode again, that’s not right either. So where does that leave me and what’s ultimately right? Since I don’t know you well enough and have no idea how you feel, it seems me just leaving it alone and letting you go on about your stuff is the best option. I want to say I am sorry. I want to say a lot of things actually. I’ll probably write about this again because I am genuine horrified by it and sad about it. Yeah, I’ll write more until I figure out whether I should apologize or not. And I know people will be eager to tell me to apologize. But not everyone works that way. Some are just done and want to be left alone. I don’t know. I don’t know what the right thing to do is now. I’m really sorry. I wish I knew if you were like thank God she’s gone or not. If that’s the case, I think it’s clear what I should do. But if you need an apology, I have one. I just don’t know which option is best. 

I love too much and too hard to not have it matched by someone that loves just as hard and just as much. I have spent most of my life chasing the shadow of that. One that landed me an entire life that I don’t even get to keep now that it’s over because it was hollow from the beginning. Because even if a person chooses to stay, the pattern is the same. I’m in love with ghosts. I’m in love with people who are only an echo of who they once were and could have been. And this is not desperation. I have people right now that are actively obsessed with me. This is just a familiar hell. I am still running on this outdated program that once told me love is pain. Love is chasing and never fully receiving. Conflating self-sacrifice with self-abandonment. Enduring abuse just to get the flowers. I know my patterns. But you can know every bit of how a plane is built and flies and it won’t save you one bit when that plane is in free fall towards the ground.

It’s not that I confused the good in you. I didn’t. Nor did I confuse it with anyone else I’ve ever loved. I do believe we are all good and I also do believe we are all broken. Some more obvious than others but hurting just the same. But I wouldn’t trade these scars for anything. Because first of all, I can’t. I can banter and muse about hypotheticals but when it comes to my life, I don’t live in that “what if”. I live in “what is.” I have trauma. I don’t think that ever goes away. Even if you get to the point that you can function, you will still remember the days you literally could not. And I have the best model of how alchemizing that trauma into something beautiful and meaningful works.

So I may always be hyper vigilant. That just means one day I’m going to wake up on a cold Sunday morning and see that my love has shifted themselves out of the covers. I’m going to feel their cold skin, pull the covers back over them, and kiss their head. I’m going to remember they gave up their Saturday to meet a deadline and I’m going to go into the kitchen while they are still sleeping and cook a warm, hardy breakfast for them. They are going to wake up to the smell of cinnamon, citrus, apples, and cloves and one of their favorite childhood Christmas cartoons will be playing on the tv. Because a skill you acquire through trauma is learning how to read people down to almost imperceptible micro signals and expressions. But they aren’t going to ask me why I didn’t get the bread that was on sale. They’re not going to ask me why I made it in the crockpot instead of the oven. They aren’t going to note the leftovers still in the fridge. They aren’t going to bury their face into the crook of my neck and kiss it like there may never be another chance to. And they will be glad to have me.

I am going to remember all of the details. The foods they can’t eat. The new diet they’re on. Their medication schedule. When their next doctor’s appointment will be. I will sneak things into their environment to make them comfortable and happy. I will care for them with the tenderness that I’ve given to all of the people along the way that took it for granted. And they won’t take it for granted. Because they too will have paid a price to have the kind of love we have. To have the kind of peace we have. To feel seen the way we do. To wake up in the morning not wanting to be anywhere else. To go to sleep knowing if we didn’t wake up, we didn’t regret a thing.

My superpower is that I never let the pain and cruelty fatally wound me. I crawled my way out of it, heart in tact. Bruised but not irredeemably broken. And I will take every fail, every mistake, every regret, every ache, and turn it into pure and honest love for a person that loves me just the same.

You know that part of your life that still hurts? Or parts. Maybe a few things. Or just regrets. Or even curiosity now that it’s over. What would it be like to experience that? I think our lives were different enough for you to live vicariously through the places you never went. The parties you didn’t attend. The fashion you wouldn’t try. The music you didn’t understand until it was old. The clubs you’d have never visited. The crazy nights you never had. The social crowd you never accessed. That thought you had one night in high school about what it might be like to throw it all away and go live another life? I thought maybe we could answer those questions for each other. Show each other where we grew up. Our craziest memories. Expose each other to entirely different realities that somehow ended up at the same train station. Maybe I could cook a steak dinner and play a song that would have gotten you grounded when you were young. And you could play a song that I would have made fun of you for back in the day. Maybe you could settle why my grades should have been more important to me and maybe I could explain to you what you missed when you didn’t sneak off to that party in the sketchy part of town. Maybe you could lament on how pretentious and fake it was and I could drone on about how hard it was and how badly I just wanted a fair shot. Maybe we could still remember the cartoons that would have brought us together. The toys we both enjoyed. Show each other the trees that are still growing. All the differences, all the similarities, and all of the possibilities ahead of us to weave it into something everyone else said was impossible. Maybe I’ll stop crying into the cover when I think you’re sleeping. Maybe I refuse to accept your polite answers and really sit with what hurts or confuses you. Maybe we really could have that coded language that knows when it’s time to leave an event, time to abandon plans, or time to get up and lock in. Maybe we could live each other loudly in that we find notes here and there, planned date nights, actual fun together. And maybe we could love each other quietly in the way the pantry is somehow always stocked with the things we love and whites are somehow always fresh and linens somehow always scented and cars somehow always gassed and keyboards somehow always cleaned and umbrellas by the front door and reminders of happy days from childhoods tucked away here and there. And maybe you don’t leave the gathering lonely and confused and misunderstood maybe you leave it with a reminder of how great you really are. And maybe my inbox never again has 15k unread messages and my phone doesn’t run out of storage. Maybe the bills are on autopay. Maybe the vacation details are situated and you’d actually love it and maybe we have a blended playlist of trap music and whatever folk stuff you like and we create so many new playlists from our new life and new memories and shared experiences. Maybe we haven’t even been introduced to our favorite band yet. Or favorite food. Or favorite place. Maybe every polar opposite path was bound to be flipped in the most magnetic way. Where we could remain in tact, keep our best memories and grow, sort through our worst and heal, and resolve it all together.

Writing in this sub for a change. I realize I’ve annoyed people with my depressing letters lately. I can’t help that. This isn’t a performance, it’s my life and my feelings. I hate that I have to leave something I care about. I think I hate that part more than having to never talk to you again. I think that is honestly the worst. You get feelings for someone, it won’t go anywhere, the feelings don’t die, you have to walk. But when you have to walk away from a place you love just to protect your heart and heal, that hits different. This really couldn’t have been more inconvenient.

But I have been here before. With higher stakes. I had to say enough is enough and downgraded my whole life to get out of a situation that hurt me. Not that you have intentionally hurt me, you haven’t. But intentional or not, you did. And I know I’m being very unrealistic because for years I expected nothing from you. Hardly noticed you. And suddenly I did and do. And I just couldn’t turn it off. The most benign, normal thing started feeling like a bee sting. Just one after another. I know that was not the intention and you likely had no idea but yeah, that is how it felt. Every time. I have no right to ask you to stop. I have no right to ask you to care. I have no right to tell you it hurts. I literally can’t say shit about it. I just have to stay and take it. Until it’s too much and I can’t. And I can’t. And I hate it. I wish this never happened. It doesn’t even matter to you like it does to me. The one that walks away loses that familiarity. While you just stay there and life goes on. Same place. Same people. Same routines. And I have to give up something that meant a lot to me. Seriously I went through so many different phases of life with that place becoming a permanent fixture. A home base of sorts. But it’s completely out of my hands now. I either stay and keep hurting or I pour liquor on the wound, let it burn unbearably, knowing it will heal eventually.

Fucking hate this so much. And life will just go on for you. Nothing changes. I have been here before and that is just how it goes.

All of my frustration and moodiness over this is from having feelings for you that can’t really go anywhere. Yes, feelings. Actual feelings. Based on a lot of projections? Sure. But also based on reality. I’m very frustrated that it hasn’t blown over. Because I know I’m being stupid and feel pretty powerless to do anything about it either way. Can’t tell you how I feel. Can’t stop feeling. Need to get some distance from you for a while to let it fizzle out. Want nothing more than the chance to say a few things to you here and there. I feel so vulnerable and kind of translucent in everything I say to you because I can’t read your mind. I don’t know if you pity me. I don’t know if you want me to just go away. I don’t know if you just tolerate me out of courtesy and politeness. And I just want to ask. I want to know. I intentionally talk about other people as prospects because I don’t want you to know you are literally the only person on my mind, constantly. Even admitting that here and now feels so embarrassing to me. I feel pathetic when I shouldn’t. But I can’t help that I do. I know you see how I just hang around. All of my little helpful suggestions. Everything. I know you have to know even when I’m doing the best I can for you not to know. Because this isn’t your problem. I almost wish I’d have just told you everything up front instead of acting like it was just some silly thing that I’d get over. But I really thought it would end up being a silly thing I got over in a month or two. Not the case. Well this is as gross as I can be for the night. Yes, it feels gross. Embarrassing. Pathetic. Because you’ve made it pretty clear through actions that I should be getting over it but I can’t. And you’d be just the type to tell me how to if you knew I still wasn’t. And that makes me feel worse. You’re too kind.

Said I wouldn’t do it but I am always compelled. And I still drown. Whatever.

You probably are the smartest and I say that because I am too. In my family dynamic I am the one that would get everyone rich if I just applied myself. I am reminded of my wasted potential every time someone wants to tell a light family joke. Like boost me up in one breath and tear me down the next. Their lives are objectively better than mine. So maybe they figured it out. If they did, why am I still the butt of the lighthearted and well intentioned jokes? Because they know something is missing and they have no idea what it is. And they think in all of your perception, you do.

And you do.

You didn’t get better genes. You didn’t get the intelligence downloaded. You had the same trauma they did but something inside of you told you to go another way. It probably told them the same and they didn’t and we would not fault them like they fault us. To us it seems like an accident but here we are making excuses for everyone. Feeling so guilty about saying “don’t bring that up. Don’t tell about that here. You don’t know what I am doing. You can’t control my life. If you’re smarter and better go be that and do that.”

When you show up, tell them your life is great. Tell them you don’t need what luxuries they do and they wouldn’t understand. When they call you the failed brain tell them since they’re so perceptive, they should perceive themselves out of whatever situation they are in. Don’t even be mad just say yeah I have a meeting I have to get to because things are going well. And leave. And they will drag you. And you’ll be like “no you’re all so smart and clever and capable I know my presence here is a drop in the bucket. It was nice seeing you.”

I’m projecting. But this is what I’m telling my people now. Thanks for the invite, good to spend time with you all, you’re all so smart and capable and god damnit I can’t even cook eggs properly. The smart genes missed me: wish you all well. And I’m out.

Feelings aside, this is all I need to know. A person was in obvious crisis. It was undeniable. You completely missed it. That person blew up in a way that wasn’t very nice or appropriate. You still mentioned that you were offended instead of addressing the actual issue. They followed up and apologized for the delivery. You validated that the delivery wasn’t great but still never asked what was actually going on. Never asked how they are doing. You still made it all about whether it was clean and appropriate or not. So the bottom line is that you can’t fucking read the room. You don’t see past surface level slights and misbehavior. You can’t see a persons pain. And even if you did you just absolve yourself of any responsibility to it and you carry on. I could get really emotional about this and make all sorts of inferences but I think the actual facts do more work than my daisychaining ever could. This is who you are. This is what you do. This is your limit. I was absolutely wrong about you. And I need to stop looking for some other explanation when it’s this clear. There’s no alternate ending. You give zero fucks. Noted.

I was messy about it. That wasn’t the right thing to do at all. An honest conversation would have been more appropriate but I’m sure if I’d have gone that route, I would have gotten the polite, scripted, “sorry to hear that.” It would have been just as hollow as you apparently are. So in that sense, I’m glad I finally blew a lid and watched it play out in real time. Because I will never look at you the same. You are nothing like I thought you were.

I’ve watched you drone on about your struggles with wanting to be kind and fair to people who cause actual fucking problems. Paragraphs about how you empathize with them and I’ve tried to remind you that you can’t fix everything, you can’t save everyone. Whole fucking time I have been drowning. In ways that objectively have nothing to do with you but struggling just the same. And I’m not some transient person here, I’ve been here for a very long time and I have helped in very real ways. Long before I developed some dumb fucking crush on you. Often when you yourself were mia. I was there.

I start completely crashing out because yeah it does feel a little crazy when I think of the sheer volume of people I have talked off a ledge here over the years, usually without them explicitly asking for any help. And here I am practically begging for it and can’t even get one fucking scrap. It does make me pretty bitter and disgusted with people. Because no I don’t help hoping it circles back, it just feels like the natural and right thing to do. But people are tone deaf. And not so eager to help a person in crisis if it doesn’t somehow benefit them. And you. You ignore literally every cry for help and then dive in like the dark knight you are to answer a technical question. Remarkable. I have a right to be angry. Anyone would. Because when you sell yourself as someone who cares for the common person but can’t be bothered to offer a single kind word to someone who has been a loyal, steady, helpful presence for YEARS, it’s going to leave a bad taste in peoples mouths. And I should have known better because the record shows I’m not the only one who has felt this way.

I’ve not crossed lines. I could have. No one was stopping me. I didn’t. I respected you, respected the boundaries, and saw myself out of that situation. So this has nothing to do with that. On a basic level of human decency, you fucking failed. That’s a problem and I think it’s a gross one. And I hope it all falls apart because I am absolutely done giving a shit. So now when I watch you act like a fucking clown to appease to people who don’t give a shit about you and your community, I won’t be so insulted and hurt. It’s just par for the course at this point.

I’m late, I’m late, I’m late. I have stuff to do. I need my focus back. You don’t make me feel like I can scale Everest, you make me feel like I don’t even want to get out of bed. If someone liked me the way I like you, it would make me feel uncomfortable. I’d believe they were being delusional. I’d get kind of offended and think they were trying to reduce me to some fantasy. I would be very anxious and worried that they were watching and scrutinizing everything I say and do. I don’t like that, I don’t like people putting so much focus on me, it gives me bad anxiety. I would dread them. I would want them to go away. I’d feel like I have to walk on eggshells to not hurt their feelings when their feelings shouldn’t even be my responsibility. I’d feel pressured to respond in a certain time and a certain way. I’d get paranoid like I have to always worry about things I shouldn’t have to worry about. I’d probably want to rage at them at some point like I didn’t ask for this, please leave me alone, I am not interested, I don’t want to hurt your feelings but you are making me uncomfortable. I wouldn’t want to get to know them. I wouldn’t want to give them a chance. Especially if it were to go on this long. It would be exhausting. I’d want my space back. I’d be annoyed that they haven’t gotten over it yet. I wouldn’t start out thinking this way but as time goes on, I almost certainly would. I’m not sure if this is how most people would process it but even the slight possibility that this is what I’m creating doesn’t actually change anything on my end. I do try my best to just avoid you. I respond when you acknowledge me but I try not to seek you at all unless I feel like I need to and it’s never about this. I try to stay extremely neutral with you. I don’t try to push or rope you into conversing with me. In fact I feel very embarrassed that I just want to be in that place without worrying that you want me to go away. I am not there for you, you’re just there. And I hate it, I hate all of it. Maybe I don’t make you uncomfortable maybe you don’t even realize the fucking agony I’m in over this. At this point, I want to go back to liking an old crush and rehash the past just to get over you. I don’t want to be thinking about you all the time it’s so embarrassing. It just keeps dragging on and on. I say something that looks like I might actually be shifting focus to someone else and then you say one tiny little thing and I’m floating again. Why would you even say that? Do you not know I’m there and can hear you and will definitely see that as a “sign”. That’s something I know I wouldn’t do. If I didn’t like someone I’d give absolutely zero room for them to misinterpret things. Even if it wasn’t about them I’d be situationally aware enough to know not to say certain things in their presence. God when does this shit end I’m so over it. I think I am going to go pop up and see an old crush just to get you off of my fucking brain.

It really has only been a few times in my life that I have encountered someone that had the perfect elixir of qualities that hooks my brain. But honestly, only two really stand out in my mind. I say a few just for good measure because I’m sure I’ve done this before. Ah, yes. The person in my English class in college that I still occasionally check up on. I just never got the opportunity to hang around and dissect but I am sure if I did, I probably would have. It sounds creepy but I promise that I don’t do anything to try to get them to like me back. I would never. Not only is it disingenuous but if I have to manipulate someone into liking me, I’d have to live with the fact that it wasn’t authentic and being inauthentic repulses me. In fact, when I hit a certain level of longing I usually just bounce.

I never have actually had the chance to know them in ways to prove or disprove my theory of them which is usually that they operate at a level of depth and awareness that isn’t so easily represented in most people I meet. All three (yes even the one I didn’t really get to know at all) share one specific thing in common. They all want to contribute to the world in a really selfless way. Don’t get me wrong, I do believe most people want to contribute positively to society. But that isn’t what I am talking about. This type, from what I have observed and concluded and I could be way wrong, usually takes on a kind of burden that is often lonely, isolating, overwhelming at times, misunderstood. They are usually forced into some spotlight role just by the nature of their undertaking and it is evident that they don’t want it but have to accept it as par for the course. And so whenever they can, they try to disappear. They do their best to keep a low profile. They will absolutely show up when someone summons them but they aren’t ever going to step out on the scene, themselves.

There is always some wall between us to which I can’t actually know them beyond a certain point. My God I long for the day I find one of these people and they’re just there, available, open, accessible, and I can truly know them. I’d like to close some files in my mind. Figure it out, you know? For instance, the other day I was talking to one of my siblings and they said “as long as my life is okay, I’m okay. The world is what it is and there is not a whole lot we can do about it.” And my brain just rejects that position. Not that I think they were wrong, they have a right to live in a way that is true and meaningful to them. So I wouldn’t shame a person for that. But I just don’t function that way. I can’t not see the iceberg in life. I really despise surface level, good enough solutions when it comes to things that really matter. Maslow saw this. God bless Maslow. There is a kind of structure to everything and it just seems that most are content with providing a patch for a hole that is just going to keep leaking. And they will keep patching. And it will keep leaking. Until the structure beneath begins to deteriorate. And then there is a flood. And it genuinely baffles me that so many people are shocked when it happens. An example. People are ended at train crossings all the time. I can’t wrap my head around why we are still accepting this as a fact of life. The absolute brilliance of modern engineering tells me there is for sure some concrete solution to make sure that can’t happen again. Not reduce risk. I mean eliminate it entirely. And I know that isn’t as easy as it seems. But there is a way and I’ve thought of a few. And that is exactly what I am talking about. Most people see that and think it is tragic. Some will speculate about the person’s level of intelligence or mental state. But it’s all just snap reactions and then they move on but my mind just gets absolutely fixated on the wild idea that maybe we can solve this once and for all?
I am droning on. It very much involves first principles and systems thinking but applied in a way that actually solves problems for people. Like solves real problems and they are burdened by this. They see a need and get to work and I just adore that but rarely encounter that. Because most people live at the surface. I’m not talking about people that want to talk about the weather and sports vs. weird things like aliens and pyramids. I’m talking about the kind of functional depth that fixes things that matter because that is how they show care. They don’t live in the arena of superficial advice and forced positivity. They are truth seekers because underneath that train wreck and all of the speculation as to what caused it, is the truth. And I think they find themselves comfortable with holding paradox when it isn’t so clearcut. I think they find themselves okay with saying I don’t really know but I am still contemplating this. And I think they may say you know what this is beyond my scope and level of functioning and reasoning so I can’t really be of use here. But they aren’t going to patch structural holes with shit they know won’t hold long term just to save face or look like the savior in the moment. Because their soul rejects that performative nonsense. Because if I am going to cry about this thing, feel moved by it, have it become something that actually matters to me, I’m doing it no justice by glossing it over with a patch that just makes me feel better in a moment.

And I know that sounds like I’m just attracted to smart people that want to fix things but it goes way beyond that. How their brain processes is a reflection of how they see the world and choose to show up and it is directly, intrinsically tied to their heart. And that’s something I can’t easily explain, it would take graphs and charts and spreadsheets and diagrams and infographics and unfortunately I have to clean my bathroom. I can try to force myself to like the person that aches over the tragedy of a senseless train wreck. Better if they can imagine the life that was lived up to the point of the abrupt and random tragedy. But my soul literally yearns for the person that says to themselves “there is a solution that could stop this sort of pain.” That’s who I obsess over and you don’t often find that. You find the one that comes up with the solution but is detached from the humanity of it. Or you find the one that sees the humanity but fails to see there is a real fix for it. Finding someone that can balance head with heart is just rare and I long to go through life with someone like that.

What am I even doing. I am taking things way too personally when I literally have no reason and, more importantly, no right to. I’m very sorry that you somehow became the focus during my personal issues. I have a tendency of doing this. It’s not right or fair and I need a serious reset because it’s approaching a year of feeling like this about you and it has just gone too far. I really have not been doing great and it has nothing to do with you and I have crashed out and embarrassed myself in front of you too many times at this point. I need to stop bothering you and figure my life out. My audacity has been gross and I am very sorry. I won’t read into anything anymore.

I pour my feelings into containers that can't feel them. Not because I want to dissociate (maybe sometimes) but because I don't want to burden. I want to say how I feel, be honest about it, without it being interpreted as some sort of expectation. I have none. I am not trying to prove anything. I am not trying to win you over. I am not trying to change circumstances or sway the pendulum in my favor. I just have this deep need to be honest somewhere. And hitting someone with the full force of my honesty can knock the wind out of them. So I don't. I try to just hang around in quiet ways and show care through whatever I can.

But underneath that lingering presence is something deeper and I refuse to let you trivialize that and turn it into something shallow. I refuse to let you make a mockery of how I actually feel. As much as I can't really get into your head, you can't get into mine either. I don't care what you think you know, you don't.

This may not make sense. The world is constantly changing and we have seen the rise and fall of a lot. Think about that. And I entered the field at a time when we still had some grasp on the old world. You were in a prime time to actually make something lucrative of it all and you didn't. And I kept showing up because it was safe. It was familiar. It sometimes felt like the only stable thing in such a chaotic world. I could let my guard down. Take off the mask. Through some of the biggest changes in my life, that was where I ran to. In this great big massive world, that is where I chose to go. Not a coffee shop or book store. Not even my favorite natural sanctuary was as enduring for me. I watched people come and use it as the backdrop for weddings, selfies, staged family photoshoots, it became crowded with people that I didn't think could ever appreciate the sanctity of it. But you refused to let that happen. We watched the world spin from social media to influencers to AI and ozempic and commodifying literally everything they could get their money hungry, attention seeking, consumerist hands on. And you remained unmovable. Like the one tree in the forest that no one could dare tear down and so that was the tree I always knew I could sit under, even if it's in the middle of this dystopian cityscape of people walking about with their heads buried in their phones.

That tree isn't mine but I tend to it, still. I don't have to uproot it and take it home with me. I don't need it to talk back to me, compliment me and say nice things about me, share my stress or workload, defend me against anything out to harm me. I just need it to be there and it has. It has been one of the only things that has. So yeah, I hang around. I run off anyone that wants to chip away at it, anyone that wants to carve it into something it's not. I really do defend it with my time and energy and effort and I ask for nothing in return, just that it can still be there through whatever hell comes next in this crazy world. But it is very hard to separate the tree from the one who planted the seed. Watered it. Pruned it. Continues to make sure it stands in protest of everything fake and hollow in this world. I can't help but see you in all of it. As if you are one and the same.

There is nothing shallow or delusional about that. In fact, it's one of the most human things ever. Deeply human. If I could, I'd tell you everything. But we know that I can't and we know that I won't. Believe me, I really want to. But regardless of how much I have crashed out over the last few years, I do still have integrity and you're worth so much more than my selfish need to be a wrecking ball with my emotions. My words may be here and they may be messy and weird and confusing but my presence is there and I think that counts for at least something. So even if I can't state it plainly, I hope if you ever need it you find some comfort in knowing that someone cares about you and has cared about you long before they ever even knew who you were. And they do so quietly without asking for anything in return. I don't need you to figure this out I just need you to keep tending to the tree you grew.

Can I be honest about this? That isn't rhetorical. I genuinely don't know if I can even be honest with myself about this, let alone you or anyone else. It's a room that I just don't enter because it's a fucking mess and if I go in there I'm afraid I'd be tempted to do something about it. So I don't go in there. But let me take a peek-sy.

This is so uncomfortable.

Here is a small pile of "I want to matter to you". Paper crumbled into balls that didn't quite clear the rim of the trashcan. I don't want to just be on your mind. I want to be in there. I want you to move me from "wonder what they meant by that" to "wonder what they are doing in this exact moment." And as you're distracted by these basic things, I want to pick the lock of that tiny compartment in your brain and run rampant in the city streets. I want you to think of me when you buy a new coat. When you see a pretty sunset. When someone smiles at you in passing I want it to be my face you see. When you take a long drive I want my ghost in your passenger seat. I want you to care about my feelings. Delicately and deliberately. I want to be considered.

Over there is the abandoned evidence spilling out of a backpack, rotting alongside the crust of a sandwich I forgot about. The little things I collected to prove that we are the same. So different but the same. We blend in with the people so easily but I swear I think we are actually aliens. Aliens that look different, come from different planets, have different skills and means of expression, but aliens, nonetheless. I could dump out the contents, fashion a timeline, and start plugging it all in to literally demonstrate how when you were doing that, I was doing this, and it was similar.

I'm kind of angry that I couldn't meet you at a time when I at least had some fair shot at knowing you better. Maybe it never would have turned into anything beyond friends but I am sure at some point we could have at least had that somehow. It just feels a little cruel and I can't even say why I feel this way or how I would even know because yeah.. but.. you'd be the only person that I would let roam the alleys of my mind and just figure it out, yourself. I am not kidding. And I wish I could do that. I wish I could just accidentally leave the door open and let you stumble in here and dig around for a bit.

Instead, I just.... do this. Appear irrational. Obsessive. Delusional. Perhaps even arrogant to think I have the right to think these things. I know I don't but I do and I will anyways. I don't mean any harm by it. I'm going to crack a window and let a breeze in here so it won't be so stuffy the next time I get bored and decide to rummage through this small room of haphazard not-going-to-happens.

I did really have a crush on you but of course it was based mostly on projections. I tend to do that. I see rare qualities or talents in a person that align with me beyond surface level stuff and then I go crazy making all kinds of other assumptions about them. It doesn’t mean those qualities aren’t real and admirable it just means I have no idea if I’d even be able to tolerate being in the same room with you for more than 20 minutes. But isn’t that the nature of a crush?

I used to think I understand people well because I understand myself well. As I’ve gotten older, I realize that’s backwards. Other people help reveal things about myself that I just couldn’t access before because they were hidden from me. Certain people surface things within me that help me grow. Also, I love to write. It’s really an addiction. I get so melancholy when I don’t have a muse to write about. And so there was this perfect storm that helped sooth an itch I had. And I can honestly say, almost a year out, I learned a lot about myself because of this fixation on you. People would say it’s maladaptive to “use” people like that but I’m using no one. You don’t care, you don’t even notice. Where is the harm if you’re none the wiser? Besides, I’ve never been scolded, lectured, or corrected by a person that hasn’t gotten shit massively wrong in their lives. So even if people stick their noses up, I’m still in good company.

I could make this entire thing about me and probably will in a month or so. I guess I already did up to this point in this letter. So to redeem the point, I will circle back to where it started because that part of me is genuine. I’m not performing or asking for or expecting anything when I say that you are special. And I know that is hard to grasp because I am special in a similar way. Some random thing I did that ended up creating a haven. I can’t see it in myself until I see it in someone else and I see it in you. I was so disappointed when I learned how your passion project got its beginning because you made it sound so flippant and accidental when it honestly mattered so much to me. But my passion project got its origin story in a similar way. And I do still play armchair psychologist with you where I refuse to believe that’s all there is to it and I have an entire case study mapped out about it. But whatever. But regardless, I have seen you in ways you can’t hide. They weren’t an accident it was so steady. Underneath it all there was this persistent thing. Even in moments where you lost your filters and became mean, there was an ethical drive to it. A need for accuracy and alignment. You can’t make that up, not over that span of time. You’d have to be a psychopath to run with a story that long and you’ve been too kind in moments you’d be justified in being very firm. Sometimes you actually irritate me in the clemency you extend when I would rather play vigilante. But that’s an example of how I learned something from you. Because your space would have imploded if you utilized my method. But here it is, still a haven. Sometimes I think about how it’s going to disappear one day. And I wonder if that matters to you like it does to me. Because you seem to use it for one function and I for another. Like someone who owns the deed to land and after tending it so long they make peace with separating. And their soul is okay. But then all of the wildlife that found sanctuary there like where do they go now? Full stop? I am drinking lol.

I mostly feel ridiculous about this but then I’m like no this matters, it wouldn’t have stuck this long. I’d have grown bored by now. And I’ve learned to treat stuff like that with some level of priority because I know I’m changing through it and trust it’s necessary. Like I know regardless now that I see you I’m not going to forget you and you will matter to me on some level forever. The amount of people that have had that effect on me is probably under 20. Not that it matters. I’m drunk and rambling. No filter ya know? But when I don’t feel ridiculous I’m like why did it take so long for me to see that? That’s just another weird thing. I came to a place you made and it became such a huge part of my life and I was so caught up in enjoying the pretty scenery that I didn’t think about the person that labored to build it until literally last year. I don’t even have a metaphor for that. Like I was accidentally and unknowingly collecting coins in some quest for a long time but was so busy playing and exploring I didn’t even realize wait this is currency I can cash in. I should sleep. I don’t care. I’m not as embarrassed about these things as I used to be. Probably because I’m still anonymous and if anyone figured out I was writing this and doing this I would be horrified.

Look at that. Still making it all about me. That whole thing was about me. Maybe this is just about me. Another lesson. I’m just writing as I think. I have no idea what your trauma is. I have no idea where your pain comes from. I just somehow recognize there is a shape to it. My water bottle just poured all over my bed so this is going to be unpleasant. You have real problems, real stuff you go through, things I will never know. But if you ever stumble upon this I want you to know I get really happy when you drop F bombs. I love when you sneak in something clever. I like learning new facts about you. I like when you lay out the logistical flow of your thinking. I love when you step out from behind the curtain. I love when you say something that shows me I was way wrong in my observation of you. I love that you still show up and try different things. I love when you second guess yourself. I love when you just disappear and think you must be at some function with some people you care about. Or on an excursion somewhere. Or literally doing nothing at all. And I’d never know. But I still like to guess. I don’t have to see all of your pieces to know you’re a real one. I’m going to stay in my place, not make a thing out of this, fast track this into “learning experience”, and wish you the best from the sidelines. And absolutely delete this in a few days or so just in case.

I feel pretty full of myself for even writing this. Because I’d never. Never ever. If I would? There would be no denying what kind of person I am.

This is my “on the off chance.”

“Just in case.”

No. You don’t get it easier than me or anyone else. I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done or how I feel about you. You don’t get to skip this part. I’m actually pretty mad you think you can? Considering I may be crazy and just making this up. But if I am? That’s fine. I’m not on a quest to prove it. So if that’s part of the whole thing, don’t hold your breath. You’ll die. You aren’t driving me crazy you’re just driving me away.

I understand you have this thing that you care about whole lot about and you’re worried about someone ruining it. If it can so easily be ruined, it should be. People hire people to do exactly that. If you have considered me at all and I do that, at least it shows you your blind spot? But I won’t. That’s the thing. I won’t. Under any circumstances. Not because I’m holding out for me but because I’m holding out for honesty.

You have to stop that. You’re better than that. Don’t get mad or offended. Pause and think. Or do nothing? Doing nothing is okay. But if you’re going to do anything let it be honest. Let it be clear. Let it risk something because that’s the only time it ever really matters. And trust that I’d never blow up your spot, not even when I have perceived any scorn. I won’t.

I won’t.

But just say what you have to. Trust me like I trusted you. And if I’m just being crazy that is okay too I guess I can disappear at this point because I made a promise to myself that I’d never reach out to you again. Im not making it easy for you. Because that is shitty. Just keep me in the dark forever, I’m fine with that. Obviously it sucks but no I’m not reaching out again. For any reason. I had to sit there and listen to a bunch of shit I didn’t want to listen to. Good for you but like I don’t really want to know all of that. I’m not dumb or naive. I know you see this. And I am telling you how I will take this as a sign that I should just go. Been a long time coming anyways. Either you stop the tests and prods and just step out like I did or you just let me go away. Idk why you think shit is easy for me. It isn’t. I’m just about done here with all of it, you’re better than this. You know in your bones you are. Don’t do it for me do it for you. It feels terrible but also good.

Maybe you're not talking much because it feels forced and weird. Maybe you have told yourself you have to stop running and accept that this is life, this is normal, this is good. And you spend a lot of time trying to find ways to be truly in the moment, thankful for what it is, and find actual happiness and peace. And it is probably really good, I am sure. And maybe you consider that part of yourself that goes "what in the actual fuck" as a demon from your past. Maybe you feel so bad. Like a monster for being like no really what the fuck. Because you do love them. You do appreciate them. You really can do this forever and be fine. Be good. Be satisfied. But some part of you wonders if the part of you that rejects all of that will be a constant demon you have to fight. And you blame yourself for it. Maybe you have labeled it. Had it diagnosed. Maybe you have a list of things to do to live with it when your brain tells you that it is wrong. Not wrong overall but just wrong for you. And maybe you look at little things and wonder why they matter so much. Why do you need him to understand how important this song is to you? You aren't going to leave him over something so silly. It's silly, why does it matter? They think of you in other ways. Show up in other ways. You have truly arrived because who actually sticks this out? No it is so healthy that he has his thing and you have your thing it isn't necessary. Not necessary. This is your trauma. You can't run away again. Someone showed up in your life and you love them and it matters. You can't have it all. This is stable. It is structured. It checks out. It is socially acceptable. Lives have merged. Everyone is happy about it. But late at night you find yourself staring out into the void wondering why it still is not enough. And you're like well I will just count myself among the millions and billions of people that wanted something else but died with what they had and it had to be enough and hopefully they are okay now and it all makes sense.

And I mean, I can't be trusted at all lol. I am so up in the air at all times. I am more confused than most. More disappointed than most. And I don't want to betray this loud part of me. I don't want to. I did for so long and I knew it was treason against my own soul. And I was right. And I want to break you out of your cage and that is so wrong. Because this is the life you love and want and who am I to assign any meaning to it and say that what you're doing is wrong? Especially when you are very consistent and strict with your boundaries. You clearly don't want me in your life and world. But then that's me being humble to the extreme because if that was the case then why did you share those certain things?

And I guess it doesn't matter. You're tracking to die. I am tracking to die. And maybe you got it wrong, maybe not. Maybe I'm crazy, maybe not. Who knows? Who cares? We are dying. And that's that. For whatever reason you popped up in my brain as some sort of life alert. Like I should pay attention to you. And I don't really want to. I could have for years and didn't so why now? Maybe our brains are just weird. Maybe I am insane and delusional and when this is all done I can make sense of why I have gone so unnecessarily crazy over something that doesn't even matter. And we will have evolved in ways that none of this was dumb or embarrassing or pointless. And I won't even give two fucks about the fact that you read this, rolled your eyes, and scrolled past it. Maybe I am just clever, entitled, manipulative. I don't even know anymore. I don't know what I am. I don't know what you are. I don't know why any of us are really here. These are just my unfiltered, drunken thoughts. I am trying to get healthy. I am really unhealthy right now.

I am bothered by how you are loved so much and no one can see it. Only take your word. You’re loved. They love you. You have a life with them. You owe no apology ne anything. But also like if you are that loved why do people see you so sad and stressed? Just curious.