u/InevitableState5595

I highkey don’t even know anymore. Is this what you really wanted? Did you get what you wanted from me? Well, let me start over before it sounds like I’m yelling at you.

I’m so confused. You said and did all these things that made me think you loved me, then out of nowhere, you had something in your brain click, you said. You promised you would tell me if it happened.

If you didn’t, why did you say or do any of it all?

If you think you really didn’t love me after a point, why did you waste any of your time?

You could have had anyone you wanted.

Do you still feel me sometimes? In the back of your mind? Can we ever be anything again? You said we’d still talk at least. I haven’t heard anything from you in a while. Maybe I’m still too anxious. Maybe I can’t take a hint. Can you let me know something? Anything? Please.

I keep reading when they come up. Thinking they’re you, hoping, then I bring myself back to reality.

You wouldn’t write to me on here. No way. I don’t think at least, because I’ve been convincing myself that you really don’t want to come back, that you don’t even want to be friends anymore (even when you said you did).

Hell, I don’t even think you read my letters.

I keep trying to convince myself that maybe, moving on won’t hurt as much as I think.

And then I start to tear, to tear up, to tear into my own mind.

My stomach stones, my feet numb, my head, my hands, my lungs, my heart, all cold.

You made me warm. Defrosted me.

I am stiff once more.

Until I step into public sight.

I become a beacon,

a jester of sorts.

The person I once was.

A reflection.

Fluid.

A journal.

To speak into, that absorbs.

I guess my journey has paused, again. Maybe it’ll feel real this time. Having to sit here, having to feel, and think, so hard, again. As I was before. Before I wanted to be my own person, keeping everyone else happy, trying to keep them around, again.

Because I’m so damn scared of losing everything.

I feel like I already have, but it’s drastic.

So I’ll stop feeling that way. For you, for myself. For us, I guess, as one final gesture. One last bow, bid adieu. Did I remember correctly?

…

Though,

In one last ditch effort of hope, one last plea, if she DOES still love me, to anyone willing to listen even,

if you love your person, even if you doubt it, even if you’re scared of loving them, or letting yourself be loved, just let them know. don’t hide it. if it all goes wrong during the process, you learned, and you know they were never your person if they can leave you, cheat, or something else. (not specific to us my love.)

you will find your person. you have to let yourself.

i hope i was her person. she was mine.

i hope i was your person. you were, still are, mine.

everything I write is in an effort to get my feelings out, so I can move on, like you said you wanted. who cares if i sound crazy. you hugged me and said I love you after it all. I’m confused. I’m hurt. I miss you. I haven’t heard anything in days. I’m worried. I’m so worried.

Completely new to posting.

She said she wants me to move on. She said she wants me to go see other people, go do whatever it takes to stop having feelings for her. She held me when she said it. Cried with me when she said it. If I’m remembering right. That might just have been when she initially told me, “you know I care about you, right..?” and all I could do was turn away, clench my jaw, tear up, because I didn’t want her to see how hurt I was, the words clicking in my brain, sending the gears turning for once, in the worst moment. I wish I was dumber. I still broke right in front of her. My memories muddle in the rain.

But I still don’t know if it’s because she really doesn’t love me anymore, really just wants to be friends, or if it’s because of the avoidant she is. It’s not hard to see that’s what she is.

I miss her. She said she would tell me if it happened, but she didn’t. She waited. She said she didn’t want to hurt me, and was scared of what I’d do when she told me.

I don’t blame her for being scared. I’ve been up and down a lot recently, she’s seen how bad the attacks are. How bad my mind gets sometimes.

If she really wants me to move on, I want to do it for her. But I never want to forget her love.

How can I move on if my soul aches without her?

Am I trying too hard? Believing in the chance that she’ll come back to me too much? If you can tell, at all.

If she really does want me to move on, how do I go about it?

She told me to keep her things. She said she was keeping mine.

(Pre-post edit: Didn’t mean for this one to be long. Ended up letting myself wring my thoughts out.)

It’s one of those nights where I remember the sunlight hitting you just right out in the open, your eyes lighting up to melted caramel and I swear colours popped in your hair. Or when the blue light radiated off onto your skin in the dark, highlighting every nook, cranny, vein. The way you’d look at me, the sound of your voice and the words you’d say. I took in every one of your words. Every good, every sweet thing you’ve ever said, may I never forget.

I feel bad for getting like this. But can you blame me? I still love you, can you blame a man for craving his woman? I don’t know if it was me or the feeling you craved specifically from me, you haven’t explained that part yet, but I never blamed you.

God. It’s bad tonight my love.

Your hands, mine, locked, linked, squirming, sighing, seeing.

To me, it was more than just something to feel. It was complete vulnerability. Handing you control of myself, guiding your body, your mind, showing you the parts of me I hate most. The me that only I ever saw, only I ever spoke to.

My mind raced back to your smile just now. Looking at me. Stretching your arms around me. Hold me. Hold me. Hold me. You give me warmth, but right now I want the heat you radiate when we would make love. I want my skin to feel like it’s being picked away by angel’s feathers. I want to hear your sounds, discover ones even you didn’t know existed. Show you a new trust that can never be broken.

This is the part of me I’ve been so scared to show you. I get bad. This post is heavily vague, which seems like a lie, it’s long already for “vague”, but I fear if I were to go into real detail everyone would immediately say “obsession!! sex addict!!”.

Hypersexuality.

It’s not fun.

At all.

We both know this.

But it’s not our faults.

We’re too similar.

Everything about us.

Have you been ignoring it?

Everything, falling right into place, side by side, ourselves, the things about us, would you look? Think for a second?

Can we work together to fix this?

Like how we pushed and pulled, forward and back, up and down, hands, hearts, heads.

I think we’re too similar to not be meant to be. We have our differences, don’t get me wrong, I’m not ignoring that, but some signs are meant to be taken seriously.

After typing for a while, I think it’s over, finally. I’ve calmed down thankfully. It was starting to get painful. It makes me feel bad too. I questioned if I really loved you too because of this thing “wrong” with me. But after a while of thinking about how I feel during and after these moments where it’s unbearable without some sort of friction, my love for you has stuck around.

Everyone has moments where they doubt their love. Some days, people do love others less than the previous day, or not at all. Sure, we fight and argue with our relatives, they get annoying, but we still tell them goodnight don’t we? Still check in after bashing heads? That’s love. Fighting for the people that you care about. If you care about me, won’t you fight for us? For something that I can prove to you will never go anywhere?

You’re a fucking avoidant. Stop running away from everything.

I know I have to stop worrying about everything, I’m working on that, but baby please, just stay for a second. Let your guard down and accept that I’m not gonna go anywhere or hurt you in a bad way. Accept the fact that you’re loved, that you can BE loved.

I can’t make you. I can just say it over and over, beg the void for you to heal and stop running from things that were never danger in the first place.

Let yourself love. Let yourself be loved.

And if that’s not the issue, and you really just don’t love me anymore, never did for all that time, just tell me.

If you really don’t want to hurt me, tell me about the things you think I’ll get upset about. Just go ahead and get it over with. What am I supposed to get mad or sad about if you’re honest and tell me before it’s a problem? Before it can hurt anyone?

Take your time.

I’m not gonna go anywhere. I swear. You’re my girl. I’ll move on with my life if you really want me to, but I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.

Can I ever shut up? Pipe down? Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaah. Maybe that’s why people get tired of me. Why they have to ignore me. I anticipate it when I meet new people. That’s why I stopped. That’s why I stopped reaching out to anyone. This started out as a horny letter, went sad immediately, snapped out of horniness, started begging, then started talking about myself. Wow.

I’m just getting my feelings out. I know she’ll never read this. I don’t care who does.

I don’t remember any of my life.

Sigh, whine, cry? no.

Just-

I remember some things. Small snippets. I remember running, I remember being made so small, I remember being trapped, I remember the fear, I remember worrying. I remember accepting death, many times, just to live through, or barely avoid it.

I started anticipating death in every step I took, every movement. Every new person became an aggressor.

Fuck baby.

You’re the only person I’ve met since these things that I’ve instantly felt safe with. I can sleep anywhere with you next to me. You bring me peace. Soothe my soul.

There were times you scared me, but some things I’ve overcome, and some things I’ve forgiven because I understand.

I need you to understand that I’m not gonna go anywhere. Not gonna hurt you on purpose. I’ll fuck up sometimes, but can you tell me about it, let me know how I make you feel, how I affect you, so that I can apologise, try to make it better, set myself straight and be a better person for you? For the world? Can we work together?

Do you still want to prove, to everyone, that real, healthy, strong love exists?

I do.

I want you. Your love. Your smiles. Your happiness. Your wellbeing. I want it all. I want you to grow, make it. I want you to express yourself. I want you to look forward to things, more. I want to help you forget about the bad things. I don’t want you to hurt anymore.

I miss you. I ache without you. Nothing feels right when I can’t mention you to anyone, when I can’t tell you that I love you.

Please. If you do end up seeing this somehow, if you read this thing, and you know it’s me, please talk to me about it. Please work with me to fix things if you love me. If you care about me. If you can imagine the future still, if you can bring yourself to believe me when I say I’m not going anywhere, and that I want us to have a good life, that I’m going to work for it.

Am I crazy?

Maybe.

But you say I’m a good person, and the biggest tug in my soul has been the need/want to take care of things. Let me take care of you my love. Let me shower you with affection. It builds up in me, from head to toe, and I don’t know what else to do besides give you everything I have and do everything I can to make you happy, to make you smile. It’s hardwired in me. It’s how I love. I give and give and give. Maybe it’s too much. I don’t care. I’d rather love you loudly than not at all.

…

I love you.

I’m sorry baby.

(Pre-post edit: Didn’t mean for this one to be long. Ended up letting myself wring my thoughts out.)

It’s one of those nights where I remember the sunlight hitting you just right out in the open, your eyes lighting up to melted caramel and I swear colours popped in your hair. Or when the blue light radiated off onto your skin in the dark, highlighting every nook, cranny, vein. The way you’d look at me, the sound of your voice and the words you’d say. I took in every one of your words. Every good, every sweet thing you’ve ever said, may I never forget.

I feel bad for getting like this. But can you blame me? I still love you, can you blame a man for craving his woman? I don’t know if it was me or the feeling you craved specifically from me, you haven’t explained that part yet, but I never blamed you.

God. It’s bad tonight my love.

Your hands, mine, locked, linked, squirming, sighing, seeing.

To me, it was more than just something to feel. It was complete vulnerability. Handing you control of myself, guiding your body, your mind, showing you the parts of me I hate most. The me that only I ever saw, only I ever spoke to.

My mind raced back to your smile just now. Looking at me. Stretching your arms around me. Hold me. Hold me. Hold me. You give me warmth, but right now I want the heat you radiate when we would make love. I want my skin to feel like it’s being picked away by angel’s feathers. I want to hear your sounds, discover ones even you didn’t know existed. Show you a new trust that can never be broken.

This is the part of me I’ve been so scared to show you. I get bad. This post is heavily vague, which seems like a lie, it’s long already for “vague”, but I fear if I were to go into real detail everyone would immediately say “obsession!! sex addict!!”.

Hypersexuality.

It’s not fun.

At all.

We both know this.

But it’s not our faults.

We’re too similar.

Everything about us.

Have you been ignoring it?

Everything, falling right into place, side by side, ourselves, the things about us, would you look? Think for a second?

Can we work together to fix this?

Like how we pushed and pulled, forward and back, up and down, hands, hearts, heads.

I think we’re too similar to not be meant to be. We have our differences, don’t get me wrong, I’m not ignoring that, but some signs are meant to be taken seriously.

After typing for a while, I think it’s over, finally. I’ve calmed down thankfully. It was starting to get painful. It makes me feel bad too. I questioned if I really loved you too because of this thing “wrong” with me. But after a while of thinking about how I feel during and after these moments where it’s unbearable without some sort of friction, my love for you has stuck around.

Everyone has moments where they doubt their love. Some days, people do love others less than the previous day, or not at all. Sure, we fight and argue with our relatives, they get annoying, but we still tell them goodnight don’t we? Still check in after bashing heads? That’s love. Fighting for the people that you care about. If you care about me, won’t you fight for us? For something that I can prove to you will never go anywhere?

You’re a fucking avoidant. Stop running away from everything.

I know I have to stop worrying about everything, I’m working on that, but baby please, just stay for a second. Let your guard down and accept that I’m not gonna go anywhere or hurt you in a bad way. Accept the fact that you’re loved, that you can BE loved.

I can’t make you. I can just say it over and over, beg the void for you to heal and stop running from things that were never danger in the first place.

Let yourself love. Let yourself be loved.

And if that’s not the issue, and you really just don’t love me anymore, never did for all that time, just tell me.

If you really don’t want to hurt me, tell me about the things you think I’ll get upset about. Just go ahead and get it over with. What am I supposed to get mad or sad about if you’re honest and tell me before it’s a problem? Before it can hurt anyone?

Take your time.

I’m not gonna go anywhere. I swear. You’re my girl. I’ll move on with my life if you really want me to, but I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.

Can I ever shut up? Pipe down? Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaah. Maybe that’s why people get tired of me. Why they have to ignore me. I anticipate it when I meet new people. That’s why I stopped. That’s why I stopped reaching out to anyone. This started out as a horny letter, went sad immediately, snapped out of horniness, started begging, then started talking about myself. Wow.

I’m just getting my feelings out. I know she’ll never read this. I don’t care who does.

I don’t remember any of my life.

Sigh, whine, cry? no.

Just-

I remember some things. Small snippets. I remember running, I remember being made so small, I remember being trapped, I remember the fear, I remember worrying. I remember accepting death, many times, just to live through, or barely avoid it.

I started anticipating death in every step I took, every movement. Every new person became an aggressor.

Fuck baby.

You’re the only person I’ve met since these things that I’ve instantly felt safe with. I can sleep anywhere with you next to me. You bring me peace. Soothe my soul.

There were times you scared me, but some things I’ve overcome, and some things I’ve forgiven because I understand.

I need you to understand that I’m not gonna go anywhere. Not gonna hurt you on purpose. I’ll fuck up sometimes, but can you tell me about it, let me know how I make you feel, how I affect you, so that I can apologise, try to make it better, set myself straight and be a better person for you? For the world? Can we work together?

Do you still want to prove, to everyone, that real, healthy, strong love exists?

I do.

I want you. Your love. Your smiles. Your happiness. Your wellbeing. I want it all. I want you to grow, make it. I want you to express yourself. I want you to look forward to things, more. I want to help you forget about the bad things. I don’t want you to hurt anymore.

I miss you. I ache without you. Nothing feels right when I can’t mention you to anyone, when I can’t tell you that I love you.

Please. If you do end up seeing this somehow, if you read this thing, and you know it’s me, please talk to me about it. Please work with me to fix things if you love me. If you care about me. If you can imagine the future still, if you can bring yourself to believe me when I say I’m not going anywhere, and that I want us to have a good life, that I’m going to work for it.

Am I crazy?

Maybe.

But you say I’m a good person, and the biggest tug in my soul has been the need/want to take care of things. Let me take care of you my love. Let me shower you with affection. It builds up in me, from head to toe, and I don’t know what else to do besides give you everything I have and do everything I can to make you happy, to make you smile. It’s hardwired in me. It’s how I love. I give and give and give. Maybe it’s too much. I don’t care. I’d rather love you loudly than not at all.

…

I love you.

I’m sorry baby.

I love you. I loooooovveeee you. I love you.

How many times did I say it? Many.

Did I mean it every time? Yes.

Truthfully some days more than others, sometimes less, but love is a rollercoaster and at some point it levels out.

Every flip, sharp turn, I want to navigate with you. You don’t have to explain yourself to me, but let me try to understand some things at least by observation so that I can help and accommodate. You were never a bother to me. Never too much. I kissed all your scars, every inch you felt you were able to reveal to me, because every inch of you deserves love. Even the parts you will never show to anyone, inside and out.

I love you.

I miss you so much baby. I miss your warmth. The sweet feeling bestowed in me when your warm hands defrost mine. Like how you defrost my heart. You’re my sun. You make me less cold. Literally and figuratively. When we sat side by side, leaning on one another. Laughing. When I got to see your eyes for a moment. You hide them so often, but when you show them it really is something special.

Do I want you to read these letters I write?

Yes, though I fret how they might change the way you think of me. That’s why I switched from paper. I shouldn’t make you read these. I’m not going to. But I need to get all of this out, and I don’t want to explain it all to anyone. No one else is going to understand how *I* feel when I miss *you*. “She’s no good, keep her gone”, things like that would be said likely. Writing to no one doesn’t help as much.

I have to get it out so that maybe I can do what you told me to one day. Do you really want me to?

I’ll try, if it’s what you really desire. If it’ll make you happy.

I don’t want to leave.

I just want to make you happy.

And no, I’m not sobbing. It’s mainly my inner thoughts. Kinda dangerous to be putting out. But who cares?

I would rather express my feelings for you to every organism, object,(a/)biotic thing, than keep it silent for the rest of my life.

What is love without expression?

What is love even?

There are no rules honestly. You learn together. Be my teacher, but let me guide you when you falter. Vice versa.

Let’s finish that documentary one day. Not like you’re thinking, let’s pay attention this time my love. Focus on the picture for a while.

Can you see a future with me?

At any point, at all? Can I make you the happiest woman dead or alive? Fuck the ghosts, they can stay mad. No wife having asses.

I miss my wife. God I miss her. I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her I miss her. I missher.

I miss her smile, her eyes, her hair, the way her cheeks rouged, the way her voice sent both lightning strikes and peace through my system. Her touch, her wiseness, the way her brain worked. I was learning it. Not all of it of course. She doesn’t need anyone knowing every inch of her brain. No one does. I was just adjusting, adapting.

Did that scare you, my love?

I’m sorry.

You swear it wasn’t my fault.

I still blame myself.

I always will.

God.

Goddamn.

Babydoll please.

Don’t make me wait forever.

A long time ago, you said one day you’d marry me. Not too long ago, that if you didn’t love me, you would have left by that point for someone else. Did you mean that? Did you mean any of it? Was I worth anything?

Can I make you the happiest girl in the world? I won’t bring things for you anymore, as in flowers, and for those reasons, but I’ll still bring you the things that you need when you ask or I see that you need them. I care so much about you.

You said you still care about me, even now. Is that true? Please let me know. When you’re ready, let me know what I really need to do. It’s still so unclear to me.

Is it really just a little isolation that you need? I’ll give you the space you need, but please, let me know if my heart belongs to someone whose heart belongs to me, at any time you think you can feel it.

I love you. So much.

I see you almost every day but I still miss you.

I miss your laugh.

Your smile.

The way you’d beg for me to stop telling you how sweet and pretty you are, hiding that gorgeous smile in your arm, looking up at me through hair strands.

I can’t keep going on not telling you that I love you every day. Not telling you how sweet, how pretty you are.

…

“If you can ever grow to love me again,” as I’ve said once before somewhere, “can I take you somewhere nice?” but can I also heal the parts of you that I hurt? You swear that I didn’t do anything, that it wasn’t my fault, but I can’t stop blaming myself.

I got too comfortable. Too emotional. And when you had more responsibilities, more things to do, more things to take your mind off of the bad things, my brain immediately took it like the past usually has been for me before and insisted that I did something to make you not like me as much, to want to abandon me. So I started trying too hard. I started begging, over explaining, worrying too much.

Can you forgive me for it?

For adding to your worries,

stresses,

fears probably.

I don’t know.

But I want to fix it. Or at least try. Will you let me one day? I have the ambition to learn, and I have some already. I want to change, and I truly believe that I have the potential.

But please don’t give up on me.

I know you didn’t mean to say it today, but did you mean what you said?

When you called me hun, and later said I love you.

It stung.

Not because your words hurt me, but because I ache without you.

My love, my darling, my world, my other half, my best friend, my girl.

I ache and ache without you. When I get scared, angry, depressed, the thought of you calms me.

Your warmth soothes my soul.

You’re my sun. I can’t imagine a life without you, my light, the thing that brought me back to ambition. Determination.

It’s so fucking cold without you.

…

No, I haven’t given up on life again, I’m not going to sulk. Things just don’t feel right without my girl.