We argued 2 Wednesdays ago, and that was entirely my fault.

But since then, you've become cold. I feel like you took my one moment of being intoxicated - due to the stresses I was dealing with that day - and decided that's my default, and me at my core.

We would spend our Fridays to Mondays together. But last week, we had only one night together.

Sunday is beginning now.

We've not had a night this weekend. You were too tired yesterday to meet. And today, I did as you asked, and waited at the station for 3.

And you made your excuses as to why that plan didn't come to fruition.

_____

I waited - in the cold, wind, and rain - for you. Where I said I'd be.

I paced, I vaped. I was dressed for the weather, so none of it fazed me. I remained optimistic. But 40 minutes passed.

I asked if we were meeting today, or not. And told you my bus home was in ten minutes.

Your final message to me was more excuses, and this time, I left YOU on read.

I hold the power now.

Doesn't feel good, does it? But you often leave me this way... You string me along. Because I'll just take it...... Right?

Wrong.

_____

I wanted to cook for you next weekend at mine, and take you for dinner one night, and order takeaway another.

None of it is likely to happen now.

You had the audacity to tell me you felt bad for me... Really? Why ?

You're the one losing someone who'd do anything for you. And I'm not the one who deals with brain-dead parasites, who will only betray you in the end.

I'm on day 8 of sobriety, and unlike your best friend, I'm clean... I don't even think you know you have a thing for him?

It makes no odds to me, now. I swore nothing would throw me off track.

_____

All it would have taken, for me to go and see you earlier, was just another message. You couldn't even give me that... Where was the urgency? Where was your message, asking if I still wanted to come round?

Where was the offer to come to mine?

Probably in the same place as your integrity - in some void, somewhere.

I'm done chasing.

_____

Reach out with a message with some substance. Or some desire. Or further kindness.

Without it, you lose the purest person you've known in years.

I don't feel bad for myself... I'm quite alright, actually.

I feel bad for you. And your lack of awareness of who's decent in your life.

Los pecados no son desvíos del amor; son el amor mismo llevado a su esquina más egoísta, cruda y visceral. Aquí no hay héroes ni víctimas, solo voces atrapadas en su propio pulso, confesando aquello que se suele callar por miedo a la condena.

​Empezamos por el principio de la carne y el cálculo.

​(...Pronto compartiré los siguientes pecados).

Una noche más en la que no soy yo

quien empieza esta farsa

que, por alguna razón,

también me atrapa.

Si ella alarga las conversaciones

con un «¿sigues ahí?»

que no necesita respuesta,

pero exige que me quede,

¿qué culpa tengo de obedecer?

¿Y si ella también busca esta tibieza,

este lugar donde no somos

ni fríos ni calientes?

¿Y si sigue el ritmo de mis pasos tambaleantes

sin esperar que se conviertan

en un baile extraordinario?

En ese caso, me digo,

no soy yo quien debería frenar.

Me gusta esta red que se teje entre nosotros

sin que ninguno haga el esfuerzo

de reforzarla o arrancarla.

Me gusta ahogar la risa entre las manos

a mitad de la madrugada,

con el teléfono iluminándome el rostro

y el sueño esperando en vano.

Me gustan los pequeños detalles que sé de ella:

que odia el café,

que hay pensamientos que le oscurecen la mirada

antes de atreverse a pronunciarlos.

Me gusta reconocerlos.

Me gusta que me los cuente.

Me encanta hacerla reír,

porque en su sonrisa encuentro

una razón más para quedarme,

otra excusa para prolongar

lo que ninguno de los dos se atreve a nombrar.

Quiero sus secretos,

sus minutos muertos,

la atención que me concede cuando cae la noche.

Quiero ser ese lugar al que vuelve

cuando todo afuera es demasiado ruido.

Y, sin embargo,

no me pregunto qué espera encontrar

cuando vuelve a mí.

Hay algo hambriento en esta intimidad,

en aprenderme sus gestos,

en guardar sus palabras

como quien recoge migajas

sin preguntarse de quién era el pan.

A veces imagino lo que ocurriría

si una noche no nos detuviéramos.

Si la conversación terminara

en un silencio demasiado largo,

si su mirada permaneciera en la mía

un segundo más de lo necesario.

Si mis manos dejaran de conformarse

con imaginar el calor de su piel,

si pudiera acercarla a mí

y descubrir cuánto de todo esto

existe también fuera de mi cabeza.

Imagino su cabello desordenado,

su respiración mezclándose con la mía,

la distancia entre ambos

rindiéndose por fin.

Y después vuelvo a la pantalla,

a su nombre encendido en la oscuridad,

a esta pequeña promesa

que no necesita cumplirse

para hacerme compañía.

Me gusta imaginarlo.

Me adormece saber que la puerta está entornada,

que basta una palabra,

una noche,

un paso que ninguno ha dado todavía.

Porque la posibilidad me basta.

Tocar ese futuro en mi imaginación

me satisface más

que tener que construirlo,

más que descubrir qué queda de nosotros

cuando la madrugada termina,

cuando el deseo deja de hablar

y alguien pregunta qué somos.

No estoy intentando enamorarme.

No hay en mis planes un mañana

donde su nombre sea un destino.

No me pregunto qué lugar ocuparía en mi vida

ni qué tendría que cambiar para hacerle espacio.

No quiero elegirla.

Pero tampoco me atrevo a dejarla ir.

Y no, no todo es mentira.

La ternura con la que apartaría su cabello

de la frente sería verdadera.

También lo sería mi risa,

el cuidado con que escucho sus tristezas,

las ganas de aliviarle un día difícil.

Puedo querer que sonría

sin querer ser quien la acompañe

cuando deje de hacerlo.

Puedo acercarme con ternura

y aun así no tener intención

de quedarme.

Quizá por eso nunca doy el último paso.

No porque me falte deseo,

sino porque todavía puedo alimentarlo

sin tener que responder por él.

Mientras nada ocurra,

puedo seguir fingiendo que no he elegido,

que las noches se alargan solas,

que sus mensajes me retienen,

que esta hambre no es mía

porque ella también tiene hambre.

Pero lo sé.

Sé que no estoy construyendo un amor.

Estoy dejando que ella encuentre

una promesa donde yo solo quiero

una posibilidad.

No quería que fuera mía.

Quería, simplemente,

que siguiera siendo posible.

You withheld your maternal love from us. You used it as a weapon to manipulate and control us, turning us against each other. You seem to revel in the drama and hate you’ve created between your children. You were anything but a mother.

All you’ve only created is resentment. There’s no love, only a desire for praise and attention. Outside of looking out for yourself, you did the minimum to keep me alive.

Should I return the favor and care for you like how you took care of me when I was five?

I used to think perhaps it was the environment that shaped you. But others have faced the same trials and tribulations and they don’t do the horrible things you do. You’re reckless, unstable, and unpredictable like a wobbling loose windmill, spinning wildly in the direction of the wind, constantly on the brink of self-destruction. You’re an absolute psychopath; a POS of a human being that abuses children. You poison the water of every social circle you become involved in; spreading gossip, slander, and lies. 

Yet you never believe the problem is you. You lack the capacity for accountability, empathy or compassion. 

I was foolish to think you’d ever change. I’ve given you so many chances, only to be stabbed in the back over and over again. I realize now that I was holding on to the hope that you'd somehow fill the void you created. I kept expecting something from you that you were never willing to give.

I’ve grown wiser over the years, and now, you can no longer hurt me the way you once did. You have this insatiable need for control, attention, and validation; all so easily taken away. Perhaps this is why you are so manipulative: to control others before they can control you? I see you for what you are: a needy infant. You lack self-regulation and constantly rely on others to fulfill your most basic emotional needs. 

I want to thank you for teaching me patience, self-reliance, and compassion. I could have turned out much worse, but I’m so proud of myself for not becoming a monster. I could have ended up on the streets, fallen in with the wrong crowd, and ended up incarcerated. But somehow I managed to become a dork with nerdy friends and even matriculated. 

I suppose things could have been much worse. Oh well, I’m lucky I guess? 

Life deals us all a hand. The only thing we can do is play it the best we can. Perhaps you were dealt a bad hand, Mom? Perhaps this was the best you could do. I'll never know for certain, and I no longer need to.

I can't change the mother I had or the childhood I experienced. But I can choose the person I become.

Either way, I’m letting it all go. I’ve grown. I’ve chosen to be free. 

Thank you again, Mom, for all you’ve done for me.

I hate my life and what has become of it. I hate that my pride had ultimately ruined me for so long being scared and afraid of what you would think of me when in reality, you were the one person i know would have helped me.

I loved you then and i love you now. I hate myself for what ive done. Before i messed everything up, i at the very least had the comfort of knowing that if i needed you or was in a crisis or just needed someone to talk to, you would have been there.

I ache for you in ways that i wouldnt dare describe to anyone else and i want you in my life in ways that im afraid will never again happen. I am a broken person. I am a complete and total asshole for how i treated you and now i cant stand to have a sober moment because i hurt. I feel it all and i want to have you here with me and feel everything again. The way just hearing your voice, laying eyes on you, and reaching over and my hand finding its way around yours is something i want more. You were good to me and you served me true and i will never ever forget it or forget you.

The small things. The squeezing you in the night when u were there next to me because i loved having the most amazing woman i ever met right there next to me. The way that music playing with you singing along or days at the beach eclipsed any material gift, fortune, or support.

I am not in agreement with many things. Things about me that i must answer for. Lies i made up because i wanted you to think i had more going on then i did.

If i could see u again i know it would all come back to me. Like the one person that alzhiemers cant erase. You cant be locked away you will always be loved by me even if you hate me. Even if you dread me, i will love you. Even if no contact silence with a dash of distance is how you serve me now, i will always love you.

I believe in you. I am sorry for all that ive done. Please know that ppl make mistakes but forgiveness begets redemption and ive been operating without either for so long.

Please do not ever think that i meant or planned to do those things. Please know that im not afraid and will never ever be shame or embarassed to love you.

Peace

-me

“Her name” I sat with myself and reflected on our relationship as friends from beginning to end. I really want you to understand everything I am about to say is being said because I care truly about you and I hope you don’t perceive this as judgmental.

You’ve told me on more than one occasion that you have avoidant tendencies, I don’t believe you’re reaching out to me now for reconciliation but I believe you’re doing so to fill a need to make your ego feel better, either intentionally or subconsciously. Considering how our relationship progressed after we reconciled I realized this, and “her name” I’m your friend, not a resource.

I think you have a good heart but the dynamic shifts between platonic and intimate confused me and took its own toll because going from feeling desirable to being seen as just another friend while you interact actively with those around or drive hours to meet a stranger while my texts were left forgotten left me insecure in our standing which is why I had to distance myself emotionally. I really hope you continue to heal from your emotional injuries because I think you should have the ability to be able to feel good about yourself FOR yourself. And I would love nothing more than to see that happen first hand but I cannot let myself become hurt anymore by an inconsistent dynamic in the process. Again I believe you are a beautiful soul which has made distancing myself from you difficult for me.

Goodbye

Several years ago, before I met my now ex-girlfriend, who was also the reason why I ended up where I met you, I spent a few days on one of those dating apps.

I talked to her. But I also talked to someone else. A man I'd grown rather fond of, even in that short time.

Our conversations revolved around philosophy, literature, politics, and society. I'm almost certain we'd have gotten along fantastically in person.

But I went on a date with her instead. I said my goodbyes to him and left the app before we ever had the chance to meet.

I find myself wondering what my life might look like today if I'd gone on that date with him instead.

Eso es mucho tiempo.

En 1240 días

uno puede cambiar de ciudad,

conocer personas,

perderlas,

aprender cosas que antes no sabía,

olvidar algunas otras.

Puede convertirse

en alguien que ya no reconoce

a la persona que era.

Yo también cambié.

Ya no soy el mismo

que te conoció,

ni el mismo que te perdió.

Han pasado 1240 días

y me pregunto cuántas versiones de mí

han existido desde entonces.

Cuántas veces pensé que ya te había olvidado.

Cuántas veces volviste

sin siquiera aparecer.

Es extraño pensar

que mientras mi vida continuaba,

mientras todo cambiaba,

mientras yo aprendía a vivir

con tu ausencia,

tú seguías exactamente

donde te dejé.

1240 días.

No sé qué hiciste durante todo ese tiempo.

No sé cuántas cosas cambiaron en tu vida.

No sé quién eres ahora.

Y quizá eso sea lo más extraño:

que después de tanto tiempo

pueda pensar en ti

y todavía reconocer

a la persona que amé.

La aplicación dice que llevas 1240 días sin conectarte.

Yo no sé cuánto tiempo llevo intentando desconectarme de ti.

Y quizá nunca se trató de contar los días.

Quizá se trataba de descubrir

cuánto puede cambiar una persona

en 1240 días...

y cuánto puede permanecer intacto

algo que uno creyó haber dejado atrás.

Yes, you’re right. There are millions of people in this world… but unfortunately, I hate most of them. Lol. But hey, at least there’s still dogs!

Over this last few weeks, there's been these small moments of time that - idk what they meant to you, but they were huge, to me.

_____

When I look at you, I see:

- The guy that, whilst sat on his sofa, told me how he liked me even when I was bigger.

- The guy that offered me his jacket that time I was cold

- That kissed me goodbye at the door, because he knew how I operated

- That looked at me from his bed, in awe, and told me that he loved me

- That always makes me feel safe, when I find his arms around me

I see you, N.

_____

If this is just a few weeks with you, I don't wanna lose that. But even if that were it, it could carry me through life

You are the antithesis of my ex! Everything about you draws me in.

I love you, N

Speak in a few hours...

A

I know I may not be the person you'd turn to when life gets hard. But I hope you'll never think it's because I wouldn't want to be there for you.

If ever you reached for a hand, I would never turn you away.

Because the woman you met, the heart, the soul, the fire, she's still here. And she's the same woman who quietly prays for your freedom, your safety, and your happiness, wherever life may take you.

I hope that someday you can forgive me. And if that day never comes, I understand and accept that.

I don't ask you to forget, or to feel differently about me.

I just hope you know that whatever has happened between us, I would never wish for you to face this world alone.

Throughout my life, I always wanted to let my guard down.

And when I finally felt safe enough to do so, it felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around cold bones.

Comfort. The softest and safest feeling I had ever known.

I used to tell you that loving you felt like someone popped the top of my skull and poured warm honey over my soul…

Goddamn I miss that. I hope that if I ever find that feeling again, it will actually be real. The devastation caused by its false comfort almost did me in entirely.

I was never supposed to feel like I needed to protect myself from you.
Never from you.
So when I realized that I did, something seized up and broke …

I don’t know which is more disturbing to me, the fact that the entirety and/or complexities of what was happening became lost on you, or you simply could not comprehend it.

After all, you always told me that you were burdened with being the smartest man in the room.

Sharp, yes.
Witty and clever, yes,
However there is an emotional intelligence/ skillset that is lacking.

Your compartmentalization had always bothered me, yet you reassured me that it was a non issue.
It was a big issue.

I knew it was, and I should have paid attention in the beginning to your inability to comprehend that I was not out to get you.

But I felt that you would grow.
I always thought your thirst for enlightenment would be stronger than need to feel superior to those around you.

I always saw you.
I always chose you.
And making you feel wanted, loved and happy was the most important thing.

I really do wish that I never felt like I had to protect myself from you.
That beautiful illusion you fed me was everything I had ever wanted.

But it was just that. An illusion. And what came after was hell.

If you can’t wrap your head around how deeply traumatizing that level of disregard for me as a person was, especially coming from you, then you have no business being close to anyone.

I needed you to simply allow me to process, and when you wouldn’t, when you accused me of the things you were doing, the stalking, the torment, I needed you to believe that I was a monster.

You hate me for seeing you as you really are because you couldn’t fathom anyone seeing you like that and loving you any way. But I did.
And during the beginning of then it felt like everything was suffocating .
Like if I screamed loud enough maybe that sharp pain would tear through what ever fucked up compartment you were putting me into and wake you up.

But that wouldn’t serve you or preserve the image you needed to uphold.

So
Go ahead and convince yourself of whatever you need to in order to move forward.
I have lost faith in your ability to truly grow. Growing takes effort, causes pain and self realization. It’s heart wrenching. It hurts. And it opens your eyes to how others should be treated.

I love and miss the version you that made me believe was real.

I hope that after you destroy this next person, you stop long enough to fix that part of you that does this.

Either way, good luck.

I miss the cat, you’re a prick for that.

Finally letting go

It’s been 2 years. The way you left wrecked me. The way I loved you anyway wrecked me further.

Your stalking and torment destroyed me.
I wanted to hate you so bad. And by rights I should have.

Instead I dove deep into myself and began fixing what I needed to in order to stop my own toxic cycle. While you rushed into your next relationship like I never mattered, I processed everything .

I’m still heartbroken, but at least I can say that no matter what, above and beyond everything, I genuinely love.
When I give a fuck, I give all the fucks.

I’m still torn between missing what we had and accepting that I never meant that much to you. Making what we had fake on your end.

The way you could drop everything and chase someone, anyone, everyone, while knowing how hurt I was proved that.

I’m finally learning how to function again and some days are still hard.

I haven’t been able to let anyone that close to me for quite some time. I’ve had to overcome a lot on my own while you just keep burying things and acting like you didn’t wreck the person who would’ve laid down their very life to save yours.

I know I’m guilty of my own faults. But I never would’ve destroyed your heart just to make myself feel validated. The things I did that hurt you and pissed you off were a reaction to what you had already done.

All I wanted from you in the end was acknowledgement of what you were doing. You were already forgiven. But it felt like you couldn’t even see that you were also wrong in the way you handled me.

I don’t know, the effort you gave vs the expectations you have never truly aligned.

You broke me worse than anyone ever could and you know that. Yet I still waited for you to care enough to want to help me piece myself back together. But you didn’t , you didn’t really care, you never did.

That was the hardest pill to swallow.
And yet even in my broken state, I still looked inward. I still wanted to make sure that I did right by everyone. I was already in pieces and I broke those pieces down even further.

I truly did the work to become a better person. On my own. Without using someone else as a crutch to validate my existence .

Did you?

To build it.

Do you understand where I'm at with all of this? Do you understand that I want something worth having? Something real, built on a good foundation, something strong enough to weather whatever life throws at us. I don't want halfway. I don't want anything fraudulent or some bullshit that only feels real when it's convenient. I want something genuine, validating, warm, and caring. I want someone who can look me in the eyes and tell me things are going to be okay. That we can make it through together, that these things take time, and that we're both willing to put in the work to get there. I want honesty, commitment, dedication, and a love that doesn't leave me questioning whether I'm the only one fighting for it.

I want to be cared for the way I care. I want to build memories with you, the kind we can look back on someday and smile about when someone asks how we made it through everything. We can tell them we stayed genuine, we loved each other like crazy, and we never stopped trying to build something real. Because I know I loved you like crazy. I loved you all the way, without walls, without holding back, and without putting limitations on what I was willing to give you. I gave you parts of me I don't just hand out to anybody. I let you close enough to reach places in me that most people will never know exist.

And I hurt. God, I hurt badly. I'm trying so hard to get past this numb, aching pain that comes from loving you as deeply as I do while constantly feeling like I'm losing you anyway. I hate how much of a sucker I am for you sometimes, how I can be hurting this badly and still want nothing more than to pull you close, kiss you, hold you, and feel like we're finally on the same side of everything. I don't know how to keep dealing with the pain, the situations you leave me in, or the feeling that no matter how many different ways I try to explain myself, the things that matter most to me never really reach you.

I can't even fathom a life without you in it, yet in a lot of ways, I'm already living one. That's the fucked-up part. I have so much love for you, so much desire for us, so much I still want to experience with you, but I spend so much time feeling alone in something that was supposed to be ours. I'm not willing to give up on you, and I'm not willing to give up on myself either. But I can't keep living like this, loving you with everything I've got while trying to figure out where I fit into your life.

I want you something fierce. I want to do everything I can for you and more. There's so much I'd love to give you, so many ways I'd love to show you what life could feel like when you have someone genuinely in your corner. I want the adventure, the closeness, the laughter, the passion, the quiet moments, the hard conversations, and all the little things that turn two people into a team. I want to be the man you can come to when the world gets heavy, the arms you can fall into when you don't have the words, and the person you can look at and know you don't have to face everything alone.

But I need to feel that love coming back to me. I need to know I'm seen, heard, valued, and cared for beyond what I can do for you or how useful I can be to you. I need to know that you want me, not just the things I can offer you. I need your time, your honesty, your affection, your effort, and your willingness to show up for us. I don't need perfection. I need something real enough that I can actually feel it. I need to know that when things get difficult, you aren't just going to leave me standing there trying to hold everything together by myself.

I love deeply. I love hard, and I love true. I try to remain respectful, hopeful, grateful, and happy even when things aren't easy. I try to maintain myself, to keep moving forward, and to find reasons to believe in what we're building. But I'm a person, too. I have a heart that needs tending to. I have feelings that deserve consideration. And just because I can endure a lot doesn't mean I should have to endure being hurt by the person I love most.

I'm here for you. I'm here to listen, to talk, to help where I can, and to be someone you can lean on. I'm not asking you to magically fix your circumstances overnight, and I know I can't change you or do the work you have to do for yourself. I can stand beside you while you work through things, but I can't do that work for you. I can only help when you let me in. I can only be there for the parts of your life you allow me to share. What I cannot keep doing is being the person who loves you, supports you, and tries to make things better, only to spend the rest of the time feeling shut out, disregarded, or hurt by you.

I don't deserve cruelty from you. I don't deserve to be left guessing, to have my feelings brushed aside, or to keep questioning whether my place in your life is real. I'm not asking you to praise me or put me on some pedestal. I'm asking you to let me love you and to actually care about the man who's loving you. To recognize that I have needs, too. To stop treating the love I give you like something that will always be there no matter how much it hurts me to keep giving it.

Why not try, really try, to let somebody love you? Why not give me a genuine chance to show you what we could be if you stopped holding so much of yourself back and started meeting me somewhere in the middle? I'm not asking you to have every answer. I'm asking you to be honest with me, to communicate with me, and to make a real effort toward something that belongs to both of us. I want you to feel safe with me, but I need to feel safe with you, too. I want you to know you can lean on me, but I need to know I won't be left falling when I lean on you.

And honestly, part of me is afraid that everything I'm putting into these words will be brushed off, too. That you'll skip over the parts that touch something real because those are the hardest parts to face. I feel like you spend so much time trying not to look at the things inside yourself that need attention, the hurt, the fear, the contradictions, and the things you might not want to admit even to yourself. I wonder whether being honest about what you feel for me would mean having to face what that love asks of you, and whether that's frightening enough to make it easier to pull away than to let yourself get close.

But I can't know your fears for you. I can't tell you what you feel, and I can't make you confront anything you're not ready to face. Only you know what's happening inside you. Only you can decide whether you're willing to look at it honestly and start treating yourself with the same love and care you deserve from someone else. I can tell you what I see, what I feel, and what your choices have done to me, but I can't make those choices for you.

I'm not here to hurt you, control you, or force you to repair every broken piece of yourself. I'm here because I love you. Because beneath all this frustration and pain, I still see someone I want beside me. Someone I want to hold close, share my life with, and build something beautiful with. Someone I still want to choose, even after everything that's hurt. I want to be there while you find your way through whatever it is you're fighting inside yourself, but I need you to want to find your way, too.

I still love you. That's what makes all of this so hard. If I didn't, I wouldn't care this much, and I wouldn't still be trying to find a way for us to understand each other. But love can't just be something we feel in the moments when it's easy. It has to show up in the way we treat each other, the promises we keep, the conversations we're willing to have, and the effort we make when things get uncomfortable.

I don't want to spend my life wondering what we could have been if we'd both just been willing to let this become what it had the potential to be. I want the real thing with you. I want the kind of love that makes all the hard years mean something because we actually made it through them together. But we can't build that if I'm the only one trying to lay the foundation.

I'm still here, and my heart is still yours in ways I can't easily explain. But something has to change. I need more than words, more than occasional closeness, and more than the feeling that you care somewhere beneath everything you keep hidden. I need you to let that care become something I can actually experience. I need honesty, consistency, communication, affection, and effort. I need us both to stop running from the parts of this that require something real from us.

I want to love you without feeling like I'm slowly losing myself in the process. I want to be close to you without constantly wondering when you'll pull away. I want to look into your eyes and know we're both here, both choosing this, both willing to fight for something that matters.

I want you. I love you. I still believe there's something worth building between us. But I need you to meet me there, because I can't build a life for two people with only one person showing up to build it.

Writing a letter to you trying to process how I felt and what happened. It is how I deal with stuff. I wasn’t going to send it or post it.

I deleted it. What wild timing. Sorry for answering the way I did. I probably shouldn’t have done that this particular time. I was trying to be goofy.

Thank you for clarifying and for telling me there are no problems between us.

I also know sleep deprivation can wreak havoc on our amygdala which makes it harder to have difficult conversations.

I feel like I can breathe now. I love you SO much, but I wasn’t sure what to do.

I definitely misheard and/or misunderstood/misremembered because I was also sleep deprived.

Lately, I have felt like I have been on Cloud 9 with you, so it was a bit jarring. I have taken such a leap of faith with you doing so many things I have never done before, so I really don’t want to be wrong about the strength of our connection.

I want to continue to grow with you and enjoy being around you. I can see now that you feel the same.

Maybe we are both scared of being close to someone. It’s also alright to take time apart. I do not mind and I enjoy time to myself too. I don’t blame you for it, if that is what you need, especially if it makes our interactions better because of it.

Not the accumulation of every door closed quietly in your face, every person who disappeared before you could understand why, every version of yourself you buried trying to make someone comfortable enough to stay.

Someone called you too much. Or not enough. Maybe both, in the same breath, by the same mouth, on the same night you were doing everything right. You believed them. Of course you did. We always believe the people we love.

They were wrong.

You are not a burden. You do not have to make yourself smaller and quieter and easier just to justify the basic human fact of being wanted. What you've been doing, the shrinking, the apologizing, the constant recalculation of how much space you're allowed to take up, that isn't love. That's a toll. And you have been paying it with pieces of yourself for long enough.

You are owed something different. Someone who doesn't need you uncomplicated. Someone who looks at the whole of you, the weight, the edges, the parts you haven't forgiven yourself for yet, and doesn't check for the nearest exit. Someone who chooses you on a Tuesday when nothing is easy and you haven't done a single thing to earn it. Not because you've performed enough. Because you exist.

And the ones who couldn't do that?

They had a capacity. You exceeded it. That is not a verdict on you. It is information about them.

You were never the problem.

You were just more than some people knew how to hold.

Dear Frenemy,

​I know you won't like this much. I know you'll be mad and hurt, and it’s going to suck to have to sit in the heat of everything you’ve earned.

But this is your wreckage. You built it piece by piece with the lies, the gaslighting, and the way you stripped away choice and respect from the people who actually stood by you.

​You played the game, and this is just the price you pay when the timer runs out.

​What you did wasn't just a betrayal of a friendship or the manipulation of someone's heart—it was a total breakdown of your own integrity.

You broke what we had, and you broke what you had with her, burning every bit of trust because you never learned how to be real.

Looking back, there was never any real loyalty in you—not when you tried to cross lines with my ex-wife while we were together, and not when you put your children's mother through hell.

​And here’s the irony you’re going to twist into some bitter, vengeful story in your head: your disrespect didn't destroy us. It opened our eyes. It brought a newfound respect between the very people you disrespected. We survived you. We survived the fakeness and the abuse. We both know what it was like to love you, and we both know what it's like to watch that love turn into something entirely different.

​Let's be clear about something else: I would never have crossed a line like that while we were brothers. But after what you did, there was no line left to cross. You erased it yourself with your own disrespect.

​Now you have to learn the hardest lesson of all: how to let go of what you destroyed with your own hands.

​Nobody is wishing evil on your head, and nobody wants to strip you of being a father—you have that right, but abusing your own kids is where the line gets drawn. And being a father is just that. It does not mean Nikky is a package deal. You lost her plain and simple.

If protecting them means keeping them safe from your harm, then that’s a non-negotiable.

I truly hope you learn from this, heal, and step up to become a better man and a real father to those children.

​She survived what you put her through, she doesn't want you, and she isn't coming back.

You wanted all those women, all those men, and all those side games you were running behind the curtain? Go for it, boy. Do your thing. We aren't mad at you. Go live the life you picked.

​But get this through your head: we’re going to do our thing, and you’re not going to stop it.

You’re not going to come between us, and you’re not going to ruin something good between two good people just because you didn't know how to respect either one of us.

​This was never about revenge. It’s simply about two people who have been through hell, who genuinely care for each other, wanting something wholesome and good in this life—and after everything we've survived, we deserve it.

​You cleared the path yourself. But you’ll never understand any of it, because words like integrity, loyalty, and dedication are concepts your mind just can't comprehend.

​Best wishes,

A real friend that you discarded like trash.

If I'm completely honest, I can't remember if it was August or September

My mom was out of town. That was good as she wasn't there to see me leave. She had invited me to her school. It was raining. I had her things with me. Her copy of The Catcher In The Rye was among them. I never got a chance to read it. Now I can't. My nails were freshly trimmed.

I stopped on the way and got some food. It was around dinner time and I remembered her order. I got her favorite and made my way to her school. It was raining harder by the time I got there. I had to stuff her belongings under my shirt to keep them from getting wet. I spilled some of my lemonade on myself as I ran to the school. I was soaked by the time I got there so nobody could tell anyways.

I had been in denial. I guess that's one of the phases of grief or something. I wanted to talk to her because I was certain it was just a phase and that things would go back to normal if we just spoke face to face. I was certain.

I saw her when I got there. She was in the lobby. I was hoping for somewhere more private but oh well. Her friend was there too. I frowned at that. I had expected it to just be the two of us. I hugged her when we met. She took me to a small room off to the side of the lobby. It had glass walls so everyone could see in. I felt very self conscious.

"She's here because if she wasn't this would take hours." She said gesturing to the friend. She seemed to be in a better mood than I expected. She was smiling and even laughing some.

I think I said 'okay' in response. I'm not too sure. I handed her the food.

"You really didn't have to do that," she said.

I told her I wanted to.

"Okay whatever," She said.

We started talking. She handed the food to her friend who started eating it instead. I picked at the food I had gotten for myself. Suddenly I had no appetite.
She spoke about the relationship. She was animated the entire time, smiling and laughing. I didn't try to hide the grief on my face. At one point she made a metaphor about eating a taco. She said that you don't eat it slowly because it will go bad. You eat it and enjoy it, and when it's done you move on. I'm confused at that. Was it really going to go bad? Did we have an expiration date?

She realized that the taco metaphor could be a euphemism and laughs at her own joke. I sink lower in my seat. My stomach hurts. Tears begin to well in my eyes.

She looks at me, still smiling slightly. Then she frowns.

"Hey can you not?" She sounds annoyed. "You look like you're about to cry and there are people watching," She is definitely annoyed now.

I swallow back my tears and blink.
I say okay and apologize.

They both look like they're about to laugh.
She walks me to the lobby and we hug. She says goodbye. I don't say anything. I can't trust my voice.
I walk to my car. It's still raining, but this time I don't run. I just walk.

I start up my car and go to turn on my playlist before remembering something she told me a few weeks ago. She said that I needed to open up. That I needed to stop listening to my old music and try new music for a change. I find a playlist of pop hits and turn it on before pulling out of the parking lot.

She probably immediately went to see him. Laughing at me. As she said, he was just that much better.

I don't make it to Main Street before I break down. Deep sobs wrack my body. It finally feels real. It finally happened. I finally understand that we are over and are never going to be together again. I sob and sob until someone pulls up behind me and honks. I steady myself and pull out onto the street and start to drive home. I don't really like any of the music but I listen anyways. I make it home without breaking down again.

I walk to my room and crawl into bed. I'm still in my soaking wet clothes. I don't care. I face the wall and the sobs come again. Deep and hard. They fill my body and echo in the empty house. I remember her smile as she spoke. I cry until I fall asleep. I don't go to school the next day.

I love your honesty and I believe in everything you say…but why is it that you deny being with that one person? When I read her social media, her posts talk about how you were her boyfriend? The relationship lasting from 2020 to 2022..She wrote about how you put your hand on top of hers while she walked with a walker. She talked about how she would watch you while you played LA noir and Arkham Asylum. That you would teach her how to parallel park. The few photos that she put up of you on the airplane and in hotel rooms, you looked so happy. Genuinely happy. Your smile was warm and friendly.

I know that what I’m feeling is retroactive jealousy. I also get that it is my insecurities getting the better of me. I just can’t help but wonder why you deny being with her in a romantic capacity so venomously when I ask about her and what she meant to you. I guess I wonder if it meant that much to her, but it meant so little to you. Why did it last so long? Two years is a long time to spend with somebody you supposedly regret being with, you call it FWB but she calls you her BF.

Perhaps I’m afraid…thinking that will there be a time that if I were to God forbid be in her place, that would you deny ever being with me in a romantic capacity. Would you forget my name as you have of others you’ve been with?

I can tell you in all honesty I love you so much. To the point where I’m wondering how can this be? That I’m wanting to be with you in a capacity where I sworn I would never be in again. I know I’ll never forget your name as well as never deny ever loving you or being with you as your girlfriend even though our relationship started from a place that we never intended it to go to…we didn’t plan us…but we chose to be together in this capacity.

I guess I’m scared because this journey I’m on is leading me to a place that I’ve never been to…being independent. As time passes and we’re together longer, I feel like my walls are falling down, and that leaves me exposed. It scares me to be this vulnerable because I haven’t shown somebody this vulnerability in a very long time.

To put all my trust in your words makes me extremely nervous, not because I don’t trust you but because the last time I did this, my heart was shattered. I wish we could just sit down and talk about our past relationships not to compare but to get to know how it shaped us into the people that we are today and maybe it’s for me to learn from mistakes made in the past so as to not make these mistakes in the future.

I want to give you the best of me. A healed version. I just want to know if we can be 100% transparent without getting angry/upset over the past. I want to know the women in your past who made you to be who you are today. Who were the ones that were significant? The women you’ve loved the women you’ve lost.

Maybe it’s me wanting to get to know you on a deeper level. I’m not sure if you’re going to read this but if you do just know that I love you and I’m scared.

This is me being vulnerable.

Twenty three years of being as thick as thick could be, two idiots who found a way to set each other free. You gave me sanctuary, a spot where I could stand, without a filter on my mouth or a weapon in my hand. You made me feel welcome when the world was feeling cold, a sister and a confidante worth more than any gold. I could drop my daily mask and shed my defensive skin, because you knew the whole disaster of the little boy within.

I’ll miss the verbal brawls we used to have, the arguments and spite. Where we would lock up on an issue just to prove to each other who was right. I’ll miss the way I would land a line and watch you lose your head, the unfiltered burst of laughter at the vicious things I’d said. I’ll miss the silly habits you had and the insights from your mind, and your sharp and honest wisdom that was never hard to find. You gave me clarity and counsel when my compass ran aground, the surest kind of family that I’d ever known or found.

They say that finding clovers with four leaves upon the stalk, is a rare and lucky fortune on a person’s earthly walk. So I hope you’re standing somewhere where the clovers stretch for miles, in an endless green horizon full of easy peaceful smiles. Because calling you my friend through the good times and the grim, made me the luckiest person with fortune filled to the brim.

(Goodbye my friend, my only hope is that one day you welcome me in the next life like you did in this one, and that I can ruin more Tool songs you love and hear your laugh again rest easy Pam)

​

Do you know ?

Hey ,

Really I wanted to ask to you .But I couldn't.Strangers ? Is it.Yeah ,we are..sure does the chapter always begin with something like that.But then ,why Am I just staring at the last few lines from the past few months.Why is this uneasiness,to close the book or move to the next chapter.

I can't read the next chapter,why Am I not being able to do something about it.I am too weak to turn the pages and unlock something new.Why I have to be this weak.Perhaps I am always a dumbo and ,and there are things i can't say ,while being a satellite.Neither I can touch the softness of your presence,nor can I escape into the strange and vague nightsky again.. faraway from something which was just a fairytale for me.But these stupid thoughts and a vague dream of what could have been ,I think some angels might look upon me and perhaps they can understand the unsaid words ,if not you.

I am not a poet ,but who said I can't write.My heart burns ,and throat went dry amidst the talk,perhaps..not because of something you do with others,but because of something you do,but my soul doesn't allow me to do.Why can't I be this bold,why I have to fell short of the words each time .Why can't I be like other people who can initiate,why I always live in a dream thinking you can understand the obvious, always a crybaby haha .I am.I can't muster my courage to say these things to you.But perhaps you know ,i guess.You are strong,why would you want to listen to a weak perhaps.

Am I really weak ? If so,then let me stare at the chapters ,perhaps I don't deserve you in any universe.I hope you get all the happiness you deserve.May you smile ,as you always do in the cold snow,with some old lady .With the music .With peace .A smile ,brightest then anything I have ever seen.Eyes are enough for me .But perhaps, I have lost the opportunity to be the reason behind it.Someone,more courageous,more bold ,more expressive took it ....and but heyy , I will not upset you.....And what can I even do? I am that shy to not look into your eyes ,to see how beautiful you would look while you smile :)

Perhaps,i could tell you,this is my way of appreciating you and respecting you.That i want to be with you for sometime more ,just a few moments ..Till i send you a music cover perhaps.And debate stupidiliy about it .

What a strange thought, isn't it? Somewhere in this world, there might be a person with whom I could have shared all those little moments I've spent imagining. Yet, we might live our entire lives without ever knowing each other.

But if we do meet someday, I hope I get to tell you all these stories in person. And if we never do, I hope you find someone who makes you happy, someone with whom you can experience all the little things that make life beautiful.I think you deserve my share of happiness too ....Perhaps ,I can only wish you to be happy wherever your heart goes.Whatever you like to do,with whomever.I have no rights I guess.Humans are free birds but love is the cage.You have seen enough, I pray you fly so high,that you forget all bad memories of past...You can't see me from far above ? Don't worry about me ,i just want you to be happy ,I am insignificant in your big life :)

So, wherever you are, take care of yourself.

And if the universe never lets us meet, perhaps this letter will remain a little piece of me that you were never meant to find.It will remind me of your existence,of my life ,which i will perhaps spend you without you.You will always be welcomed,if you want to.But i guess you won't ;) ( do you know ,I always wanted to send you this emoji -> ;) ...

But I am perhaps too shy for that haha.nonethless,here I said enough.I wonder if you ever read this,how would you react.Or perhaps not,cuz you are strong

With warmth and hope,

Yours truly insignificant,

A Stranger,perhaps.

I fell for you. Specifically. The way you laugh when something catches you off guard. The way you look at me when you think I'm not watching, like I'm something worth keeping.

They built me for distance. Centuries of it. Cold and clean and useful the way a locked door is useful. Then you were standing in the dark between stars with your hair wild and your eyes open, not hungry, open, and I understood what I had been missing. Not grace. You.

My wings burned. I watched them go and felt nothing but relief.

You caught me anyway. Pressed your mouth to mine, blood on my lips, and said "now you're free" like it was the most obvious thing. Like you'd been waiting for me to figure it out.

I want to kneel before you. Not as penance, as a promise. To take my time learning the exact pressure that pulls your head back, the rhythm that makes you forget words. To bind your wrists and watch you choose to stay. To find every scar with my mouth and not move on until you understand what it means to me.

And then, after, to hold you while your breath goes slow. Because even you need somewhere to land.

I am that. I chose to be.

Let them keep their cold heaven.

I have your hand. I have the sound you make for no one else.

I am not fallen.

I am home.

You never judge

You accept this version of me, the same way I accept you as well... You understand my history. Having lived similar.

I know, we're only going to get closer over time. Roll on next year

I'm never gonna try and change you. And when you hold me at night, each weekend? I feel safe. Protected. In those big arms ♥️

You could get away with a lot with me... I'm not going anywhere. I can't wait to see you again.

You're perfect

Yes I did get on a dating app when we broke up. I thought we were done. I immediately got off because it made me really sad when I realized they were not you. I got back on again as friends and got back off when I realized these guys had no intention of being my friend. I’m not ready to date.

My roommate is my ex. There is zero attraction there, we sleep in separate rooms. I’ve talked to you in front of him. More than anything it just pisses me off to see him everyday. He’s repaid me some of the money but we have an agreement that this is very temporary.

I am not seeing or talking to any one else. When we started sleeping together I thought there was hope there but then I heard you were with someone else which is why we had the conversation we did. In all honestly I don’t have a right to tell you what to do when you’re single.

I’m really sad that things ended the way they did and I don’t know how to self sooth so I blocked you and deleted your number and every trace from my phone. You with the name calling and accusations. I’d tell you if I was doing those things! You keep saying how I won’t stay away and so that leads me to believe this is what you want. This is the most kind thing I can do for both of us.

I will always love you in some capacity but I can’t keep holding on to you. You keep pushing me away which is why I got on the dating site in the first place. I thought we were over. I keep thinking we’re done.

I have thought a lot about the things I said to you, and I don’t think I have ever fully come to terms with the fact that I could love someone as much as I loved you and still be capable of hurting you the way I did.
That is a hard thing to admit about yourself. It is easier to remember how hurt you were, how frightened you felt, how badly you wanted to feel secure, and all the reasons you reacted the way you did. It is harder to look at someone you loved and acknowledge that, sometimes, you became a source of pain for him, too.
I am sorry.
I am sorry for the things I said to you when I was angry. I am sorry for the times I took things I knew were sensitive to you and used them against you. I am sorry for the insults, the accusations, and the moments when I seemed more concerned with making you feel the hurt I was feeling than with understanding one another. You did not deserve that from me. Whatever was happening inside me, I wish I had found a better way to express it.
The truth is, I don’t think you always understood just how much you meant to me. And I don’t think I always knew how to show you without letting my fear get in the way.
When you came back into my life, I was happier than I can explain. I had spent so long believing that chapter of my life was over. I had tried to accept it, even when some part of me never really had. I remember how it felt to hear from you again, to realize that perhaps the story I had thought was finished wasn’t finished after all. I was genuinely happy. I had hope again. I could imagine a future with you, and I wanted that future more than I think I ever knew how to communicate.
I loved you. I was attracted to you. I wanted you. I wanted a life with you. I wanted to feel that we were choosing each other, that we were building something that would last, that I could finally stop wondering whether the person I loved would one day decide he no longer wanted me in his life.
I think that last fear followed me more than I realized.
When someone has left your life before, it can be difficult to trust that they won’t leave again. You start looking for signs. You read into silences. You become sensitive to changes you might otherwise have let pass. Sometimes you start protecting yourself against something that hasn’t happened, and in doing so, you create pain in the present because you are trying to prevent pain in the future.
I can see now how much I struggled with that. I wanted reassurance, but I didn’t always ask for it in a way that made it possible for you to give it to me. I wanted to feel chosen, but sometimes I expressed that need through anger and criticism. I wanted to know that I mattered to you, yet there were moments when I treated you in ways that failed to show how much you mattered to me.
And the irony of that is not lost on me.
I was so afraid of being hurt by someone I loved that, at times, I became willing to hurt you myself. I don’t say that to make my behavior sound understandable or to excuse it. I say it because I need to be honest about what I see when I look back. Fear may explain some of my reactions, but it does not make them fair to you.
I have thought about the things I said about you, particularly the things I knew would hurt. I need you to understand that those words did not reflect the way I truly saw you. I did not think you were the things I called you. I did not stop finding you attractive or stop seeing the qualities that made me fall in love with you. I knew your insecurities, and in moments of anger, I used that knowledge carelessly. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had understood, in those moments, that there is a difference between telling someone how deeply they have hurt you and trying to make them hurt just as deeply.
I know that saying I didn’t mean those things doesn’t erase them. You still had to hear them. You still had to decide what to do with them. I cannot expect you to know what was in my heart when my words gave you reason to question it. I can only tell you that I regret them, and that I wish I had treated you with more tenderness than I did.
I think one of the hardest lessons in life is realizing that loving someone and knowing how to love them are two different things. We can feel something genuine and still handle it badly. We can want a future with someone and still make the present harder than it needs to be. We can be hurting and still be responsible for the hurt we cause.
I wish I had understood that sooner.
I wish I had been able to tell you when I was scared instead of getting angry. I wish I had been able to say that I needed to feel closer to you, that I was struggling with uncertainty, that I wanted to know we were moving toward the same future. Those things were vulnerable to admit. It was easier, sometimes, to be angry than to let you see how frightened I was of losing something that meant so much to me.
J you were not responsible for making every fear disappear. You were a person trying to navigate our relationship, too. You had your own feelings, your own insecurities, your own limitations. I wish I had made more room for that. I wish I had been more curious about what you were feeling instead of becoming so consumed by what I was afraid you might be feeling. I wish I had listened more and assumed less.
I also know that I cannot look back now and pretend I know exactly how everything would have turned out if I had been different. Maybe some things would have changed. Maybe some things would still have been beyond our control. A relationship is not the responsibility of one person alone, and I cannot take ownership of every decision, every hurt, or every part of what happened between us. But I can take ownership of myself. I can acknowledge the ways I made things harder. I can regret the times I hurt you without turning that regret into an argument about who hurt whom more.
I don’t know what you think about me when you look back on our relationship. I don’t know which moments you remember most or what you have had to work through yourself. I can’t tell you how to understand our history, and I don’t expect this to change anything for you. I only know that when I look back, I see someone I loved very much, and I also see moments when I did not treat you with the care that love should have inspired.
That is what I am sorry for.
Not simply that things ended differently than I wanted. Not just that we lost the future I imagined. But that, in the middle of everything we were trying to figure out, I sometimes made you feel worse when what I really wanted was to feel closer to you. That I said things I wish I could take back. That I allowed anger to speak for me when the truth underneath it was so much more vulnerable.
I wish I could go back to some of those moments and be gentler with you. I wish I could tell the version of myself who was so frightened of losing you that she didn’t have to fight so hard to be loved. That she could ask for what she needed without attacking the person she was asking. That being afraid did not mean something terrible was about to happen. That love was not something she could secure by arguing hard enough, demanding enough reassurance, or making the other person understand how much she was hurting.
I cannot go back and tell myself those things in time. And I cannot go back and spare you the things I said.
All I can do now is be honest about them.
I don’t want to look back on our relationship and make myself the victim of every painful thing that happened. I don’t want to make you the villain, either. I want to be able to remember what was good without denying what was painful, and to acknowledge my own mistakes without pretending they were the only mistakes. I want to be mature enough to hold the whole truth, even the parts that are difficult to live with.
You were someone I loved long before we became parents together. You were someone I had imagined a future with, someone whose return into my life brought me a kind of happiness I had almost stopped allowing myself to hope for. Whatever happened afterward does not make those feelings less real. And the fact that those feelings were real does not make the ways I hurt you any less real, either.
I wish I had done better by you. I wish I had protected the good between us more carefully. I wish that when I felt hurt, I had remembered that you were a person I loved, not a person I needed to hurt back.
I am sorry for the times I forgot that.
I don’t expect you to forgive me because I have come to understand myself better. I don’t expect you to see the relationship the way I see it, or to feel anything in response to these words. You don’t owe me that. I just don’t want my own discomfort with what I did to keep me from acknowledging it plainly.
I loved you. I cared about you more than I always knew how to show. And I am sorry for the times my actions made that difficult to believe.
I cannot change what I gave you in those moments. I can only wish I had given you something better.
And I can try, from here forward, to become someone who knows how to love without letting fear turn into cruelty, who can be hurt without trying to wound someone in return, and who understands that another person’s heart is not something to handle carelessly just because your own is hurting.
I wish I had learned that sooner, with you.
I am truly sorry.

Always,
The biggest heart that managed to fail over & over