Things are starting to feel a bit more intense with us... so I cant help but worry.

Your energy is with me during the most mundane of tasks. I feel you when I first open my eyes in the morning. You're on the drive with me to work. The radio is especially intune with our connection. Every lyric a testament to the vibe. By my side until I close my eyes for the day.

I've wondered the role you are supposed to play in my life... Are you here as a lesson? ...God, I hope not.

Or are you a permanent fixture?. My past makes me fear you are just another lesson in detachment...

A pop quiz on "how to love from afar".... My last lesson damn near killed me so i'm not sure I'd recover.

Still.... hope tells me this is different. Dare I say... safer?

Theres a purity here... an intoxicating feeling that the wheels are in motion and there's no stopping it now.

Please don't be another lesson.

Someone asked a question today
I was really caught off guard
Because I guess, that’s what I wanted
But I can’t have

I laughed it off
Again
But I tried I guess
Not to let it show
How I was affected by the question
But I thought about you the whole day

Crazy, right?
How someone mentions your name
And there I am
Drowning in feelings for you

I wish we had more than just glances and silence

I want to know what makes you, you

I want to know your likes and dislikes

I want to know how your day went

I want to know your favorite food

I want to know what side of the bed you usually sleep on

I want to know what book you're on, or what show you are keeping up with

I want to know the random songs that get stuck in your head

I want to try new restaurants and cafes with you

I want to see new places with you

I want to know the places you have and haven't been to

I want to know your thoughts on things

I want to know what brings you peace

I want to know the people you cherish most in this world

I want to know the childhood memories that shaped your perspective

I want to know your dreams and your fears

I want to know your pains, and how I can help ease the weight

I want to be the one you call when life gets overwhelming

I want to grow with you

I want to know your passions

Because right now, it feels like we are just strangers to each other, but I wish we chose not to be.

I believe that eye contact between two people is such a strong form of connection. So much can be said through people’s eyes, even if they haven’t uttered a word. Just 5 seconds of eye contact with someone you might be fond of, can cause such a whirlwind in the body. You feel your heart start to beat faster, your pulse bouncing off your throat, your stomach fills with butterflies, and the blush rising in your cheeks. Sensations which rarely appear.

I like to revisit those moments. Those moments of contact. Some might say that nothing really happened, but no one really knows how one feels, no one can actually put themselves in your shoes. That’s the beauty of it though, only those two people making this form of contact can really feel it. But the thing is, a lot of times it can be misinterpreted, one-sided… I might feel the butterflies flutter in my stomach, but he might not. Thats the downside of eye contact, you won’t ever know how someone really feels. 

I always like to wonder what could have been? If both of our feelings were the same, could we have had a future? If there weren’t any other circumstances, could we have been together? All these possibilities tangle like threads in my mind, but they always end up fading, theres no point in dwelling on something that cannot be. 

I still wish though, I wish it could be, I wish something more were to happen. But alas, our stories have already been written, all that remains for me to do is wait. 

I'm not reaching out because I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have. I still love you, and I think I always will. A part of me hopes that maybe, someday in the future, we could try again. I'm sorry. I don't want you to hate me, because the thought of that hurts. But if hating me helps you heal, then that's okay. All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. I'm hurt too. I wish we had tried harder to fix things. But I can't blame you when I was the one who caused you so much pain. I want to talk to you so badly, but I know too much has happened between us. Deep down, I keep hoping you'll reach out to me, even though I know you don't feel the same way anymore.

Sometimes I go through our old chats, voice notes, and your photos. I smile, and then I cry like a baby. I wish I'd done so many things differently. I'll carry that guilt with me for a long time. I miss you. Everything reminds me of you even the sky. I'll always cherish what we had it was the most beautiful time of my life. I was genuinely happy with you. It was momentarily perfection. I miss my best friend and my lover. You made me feel important, cared for, and loved. You showed me what love really feels like and how deeply I could love someone. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for making me laugh just by being with you.

I don't know if we were meant to end up together, but I have no doubt that you'll always be my soulmate. I'm truly sorry for hurting you. I can only imagine what you went through because of me, and I'm sorry for every bit of it.

I still remember praying for you, and somehow I got lucky enough to have you. I tried my best, but I know I disappointed you, and I'm sorry. To me, this has never truly felt over. It was always you, or no one else. Maybe it always will be.

I'll always love you.

Being a hopeless romantic is just dumb at this point and I hope everyone here just gets over the fixation of someone. Tired of delusions at this point they’re nice but they’re not reality. Your person is prob with someone right now not even thinking of you, and if they are your just an after thought. Writing notes is nice and the what ifs are assuring but nothing is better than actually living in the moment with your sp. I just hope in the future I can communicate throughly with my sp and not make some contrived love. Id rather live out my dreams than just fantasize all day. It’s exhausting and I just hope the universe or whatever it is out there just sends them already cause I’m just done fantasizing.

I know I deserve more than this. I deserve love. I deserve to be loved and to truly feel loved.

I deserve someone who falls for me from the very first moment.
Someone who gets excited to see me smile, who loves hearing me laugh, who wants to make me laugh just so they can see me smile again.
Someone who wants to see me happy.

I deserve someone who loves the way I talk, my enthusiasm, and the fact that I notice even the smallest, most insignificant things.
Someone who loves how excited I get over little moments.
How passionately I talk about the things I love and the things that light me up.

I deserve someone who wants to take care of me, who wants to walk me home at night, be there for me in the evening and during the day.
Someone who cares about how I am getting there, whether I have arrived safely, how I am getting back, where I am, whether I am alone, and whether I am okay.

I deserve someone who looks at me with sparkling eyes, and when we are alone together in bed at night, it feels like a sky full of exploding stars.
Someone who loves watching me quietly when I do not even realize they are looking.
Someone with whom I share secret glances and inside jokes that belong only to us.
Someone who cherishes me in the quiet moments, with shining eyes and a shy half smile.

I deserve someone who gets flustered by my compliments.
Someone who notices the little things about me and compliments them specifically.
Someone who gets excited by my touch, by the way I stroke their skin, hold their arm, the way we hug, and the way we hold hands.
Someone who gently traces each of my fingers with their thumb, one by one, with quiet affection.

I deserve someone who wants to talk to me for hours, who listens to me and is genuinely curious about me.
Someone who values my opinions and simply values me for who I am.
Someone who trusts me, worries about me, and wants nothing but the very best for me.

I deserve someone who pursues me, who is romantic, and who makes it clear that they want me and are interested in me.
Someone who wants to invest in us with all their heart.
Someone who is attentive, gentle, and patient.
Someone who wants to hold me all night and never let go.

I deserve someone who truly wants to know me, who puts in the effort and stays consistent.
Someone who remains after getting to know me, even the parts of me that are not perfect.
Someone who chooses to stay despite those imperfections.

And the hardest part is that you did some of these things. So many of them.

On paper, it could have been perfect.

But when reality and fantasy become tangled together, I was left wondering what was real and what existed only in my imagination.

I guess that is the nature of fantasies.

Not all of them become reality.

They give you a glimpse of a different life, of something that could have been.

But you chose to stay in the fantasy instead of being with me in reality.

Someone just asked if I was alright. A neighbor, and for the first time I didn't lie, so I told her no I'm not. When she asked why, I told her I wish I could tell her.

I don't think I'm gonna make it out of this. I'm sorry, you probably didn't know how serious it was but I'm not gonna tell you because you probably won't believe it anyway... or even know what to do. Just don't blame yourself. I can know how avoidable any if this was but if you don't, it doesn't matter. My heart couldn't take it. I don't understand why the entire universe did this. Led me to keep going. I don't think I did anything to demand this much pain but the signs came like nothing I've ever seen. It's all so sad.

I’ve reflected a lot since I last saw you. It has been uneven at times, but lately clarity has arrived in a quiet form.

You didn’t walk with me.

Not because you wanted to and couldn’t.
Not because you didn’t want to and chose not to.

You simply didn’t.

Maybe my mind will always return to the reasons, turning them over one more time in hopes of finding something I missed. But I don’t think the reasons matter as much anymore.

What matters is what happened.

There is a strange peace in that. It isn’t something I have to believe or reject. It is simply true. The kind of truth that asks nothing of me except to notice it.

The world is full of these quiet truths…

The sun sets, and the full moon rises. Morning comes, and with it, the new moon. The tides continue. The seasons change. None of it argues for itself. None of it needs an explanation. It simply is.

Maybe that is what Mary Oliver was trying to teach all along. No matter how tangled our thoughts become, we can always step outside and look up.

The unknowns are allowed to remain unknown. What steadies us is what is real. What was actually said. What was actually done.

And who actually walks beside us.

I'm afraid I'm going to slip. Pop up out of the blue like the madwoman you must know deep down that I am. I know any vision of us as something solid and gleaming has the high probability of turning quickly into a game of Russian roulette, one where both of us play, and both of us lose, a brush of the lips as dangerous as a revolver with one in the chamber. But do you?

So I sent you a secret message in code, one you will never know is from me, somewhere you have to look to find it. I hope if you do seek secret messages and find mine, somewhere in your heart you know, I send you my love. But we cannot live in such visions

You are constantly on my mind. Please, take all the time you need.

I didn’t have a place in your life, but I hope with all my heart that I still have a place in your heart.

I don’t know if that’s because I’m growing used to missing you, or if it’s because I no longer feel you around me.

Either way, I suppose.

Why do you do that? Go after your friends partners. You don’t even stop at that. I’ve seen you do it to women that you’re jealous with too.

So, why? Why do you do that? Everytime you’re jealous of your friend… send her husband a nud3

That will fix it right? Validation, right? Who even are you? A shell?

​

I wish I didnt miss you.

I wish I didnt care about you.

I wish I didnt love you.

I wish I didnt think of you.

Sometimes I question why we met and grew so close just to never speak again. Its frustrating. I dont know if you care or not anymore. You told me once you did but only after I said i cared about you. You were the first person in years that I made friends with. I have very few.

I miss so many people. Friends who didnt stay. I care for each of them still. Love them still in various ways. Miss them when something reminds me of them. Think of them from time to time.

That is who you are becoming and it makes my heart ache. But I need to let you be that and stop trying to prevent it.

Looking back, the red flags were always there, I just made the mistake of giving you the benefit of the doubt. It makes my blood boil to realize how fake you were. If you actually loved and cared about me like you said you did, you would have spoken up the moment your feelings changed. Instead, you stayed silent, built a fake bond with me, and suddenly expected me to fulfill the role of a romantic partner out of thin air.

During our “friendship” I told you repeatedly that I’m not interested in dating anyone. I was completely honest and transparent with you, something that you didn’t do. You pretended to be a safe, platonic friend while quietly waiting to launch a lovebombing campaign the second you thought you had me hooked.

It was a calculated bait and switch. You manufactured platonic intimacy just to extort something romantic out of me, and the second I said no, you showed your true colors. Turning to content like Brian Atlas after I stood my ground proved what this was all along: an ego trip.

You were never my friend. You were just waiting for a payoff. I feel dirty, used, and betrayed, but I’m glad I saw through the charade before you could do any more damage. The mask slipped, and the door is locked forever. Best of luck with everything.

I was trying to be. Honest to god. I think back on the things I've said to you over the past month or so and I can now see how intimidating it must be from your perspective, especially if you're not used to it. I'm sorry for that, my self awareness is sometimes fleeting. You haven't complained or anything, in fact you're still constantly reaching out, which I love, but also surprised by honestly. Maybe you're ok with it?

When I'm communicating with you I try to remain as authentic as I can, within reason, but I've noticed that you pull back or refocus. Like you're adjusting the thermostat of the conversation. Which is probably needed.

In a way we're kind of balancing each other and trying to get each other to come closer to the middle. But I'd be lying if I said I wanted that.

I want you on my side.

I want to be the person you can be yourself around. No filters or masking. Tell me I'm too much if I am, set your boundaries. I feel safe when we're together, and I hope you feel the same. You are very open, but I get the feeling like you're holding back still. I think so highly of you, and I am somewhat aware of how I can come off, so don't be afraid to tell me.

Please be less subtle.

I sit here missing you more than ever..ur kisses your touch your voice and laughs and ur heart beats..Just feeling like life tricked me once again.. maybe I just not ment for to experience 😕 the true love between us..

No need to invent reasons to resent me when there are enough real ones already.

Some time ago, my partner accessed my phone and read my writings. They confronted me, and I confessed my feelings for you. I told them everything, that I loved you, that you were my first choice, that I would make a different decision if given a do over.

They convinced themselves I burned down our world in order to build a new life with you. They still think that. But it couldn't be further from the truth. I burned down our fraudulent world to build a better life for myself.

At the time, entering another relationship was the absolute furthest thing from my mind. I was seeking freedom. Peace. Safety. Not romance. Couldn't imagine ever even entertaining the notion of remarriage. But I admit I've foolishly fantasized about it with you.

I wasn't looking for this, and I know you weren't either. It has devastated us both, and I am truly sorry.

I'm willing to have an honest conversation if you want to, but I can't just yet.

Need to lay low for now.

I'm the villain in their story, but I hope I don't fulfill that role in yours as well.

My father painted. I was seven and sitting on the floor of his studio, and to me it looked like the most serious work in the world. He didn’t talk much while he worked. Mostly it was just the smell of turpentine and the sound of a brush.
Once I asked him what happens if he messes up. He didn’t stop painting. He just said, “You can always fix an oil painting.” Then kept going like he hadn’t said anything important.
I didn’t think about that sentence again for over twenty years. Then I spent a decade making the same mistake five times in a row, and somewhere around the fourth or fifth time, his voice showed up in my head, uninvited, and wouldn’t leave.

Hey Dad,
I was thinking about your studio today. The smell of paint, turpentine, all those canvases leaning against the walls. You’d be at your easel, and I’d be on the floor, just watching. You never shooed me away. You just worked. And once, without even looking at me, you said: “You can always fix an oil painting.”
I didn’t get it back then. But those words never left me. They became my law. When everything fell apart, when I was broken into pieces and had no idea how to go on, I remembered you. I wasn’t painting - I was rebuilding myself. Layer by layer. Mistake by mistake. And every time I messed up, I could hear your voice.
I didn’t become a painter, Dad. But I became a maker. I built my own home. I rewrote my life. I finally got what you gave me - not a brush, but the right to fail. And that saved me.
Thanks, Dad. You were right, you know. It worked.

I have to admit it's hard to quit you.

What's the point of scrolling through memes now?

Every reel I save has your name attached to it. Every dumb joke is followed by the thought, he'd laugh at this. Somewhere between the algorithm and my thumb, you've become part of the internet itself.

Is this what love looks like in 2026?

No love letters. No dramatic confessions.

Just sending each other reels because we were both too shy to ask the questions we actually wanted answered. We'd hide inside videos, hoping the other person would reveal a little piece of themselves in the reply. It was never about the meme. It was about getting to peek into your mind.

I think that's what I miss the most.

I wanted to drill into your brain. To know why something made you laugh. Why that song meant something to you. Why you'd choose one answer over another. Every reel was just another excuse to keep the conversation alive.

I miss how you talked to me.

The excitement. The way you'd reply before I even expected you to, even if it was one in the morning. Like I had your attention before sleep did.

Maybe that's the hardest part.

Wondering if I was ever special, or if anyone could have stood where I stood.

I don't know how to quit you.

I don't know what to do without someone who could tell me I was a good girl and make me feel understood instead of ashamed. Without someone who could hear the strange corners of my mind and meet them with curiosity instead of judgment.

Who do I tell all these thoughts to now?

There's still so much of me that wants to be seen.

Maybe that's what hurts more than losing you.

I don't know if you're my soulmate.

I only know that talking to you never felt like work.

I never rehearsed my replies. I never reread my messages ten times before hitting send. We had the same sense of humor. The conversation carried itself. Silence never felt awkward, and words never felt forced.

Everything just... clicked.

I don't know if people realise how rare that is.

I'm not afraid I'll never fall in love again.

I'm afraid I'll never stumble into another mind that feels this effortless to exist beside.

Maybe I will.

I hope I do.

But right now, every conversation feels like translating a language that used to come naturally.

And I still don't know how to quit you.

I remember your face, colourless and dead, with the lack of oxygen from the cardiac arrest. Today,I watched the show Criminal Minds. It showed a man who was equally colourless and dead because his heart stopped working. It brought memories from that fateful night. The night I saw you dying. The night that changed me forever, Mumma. Every ambulance sound, every mention of heart attack or cardiac arrest, or CPR reminds me of you.

I thought I could handle the grief of you dying but I can't. I don't even recognise myself anymore.

I wrote this because I’m caught between accepting that it’s over and still loving someone I know I can’t chase. I’m not looking for advice on how to get her back. I’m wondering whether anyone else has felt this split between what the mind knows and what the heart still holds.

I Left Because I Loved You

I did not leave because I hated you.

At least,

I don’t think I did.

I left because staying felt impossible,

but leaving did too.

I knew that if you came back

and said,

“Let’s try again,”

I probably would have dropped everything.

And I don’t know

if that means I loved you

or if I just didn’t know

how to let the future I imagined die.

So I deleted the pictures.

Blocked the pages.

Erased the number.

Changed the city.

I thought distance

would make things clearer.

But somehow,

you stayed.

In flowers.

In songs.

In places that did nothing wrong

except remind me of you.

And every time my heart remembers,

my mind argues with it.

It says,

“Don’t you remember how she hurt you?”

And I do.

I remember the silence.

The distance.

The confusion.

The way someone else received

everything I thought

we were still trying to become.

So why do I still miss you?

Why does part of me still wonder

what I would say

if you came back?

Why can I understand

that it is over

and still feel like something

inside me never got the message?

I don’t know.

That is the truth.

I have spent years

being strong for everyone else.

“Can you help?”

“Can you fix this?”

“What should I do?”

And I helped.

Again.

And again.

I became a home

for people who never asked

where I went to rest.

Then you came along,

and for a moment,

I thought maybe I had found it.

Someone beside me.

Someone to grow with.

Someone who saw me

before I had everything figured out.

Or maybe I only thought I did.

Maybe that is what hurts most.

I still don’t know

what was real,

what changed,

or when I stopped being

what you said you wanted.

And my prayers

keep changing their minds.

First:

“God, bring her back.”

Then:

“God, give us one more chance.”

Then:

“God, if she is gone,

please take the memory too.”

I pray for reunion.

Then I pray for forgetting.

Then I feel guilty

for wanting either one.

I ask God to bring you close.

Then I ask Him

to pull you out of me.

And when prayer feels like silence,

I carry my wishes somewhere else.

I leave them beneath trees.

I write them onto paper

like maybe the branches

understand something I don’t.

I think about wishing wells,

quarters falling through darkness,

each one carrying

a different version

of the same confused request:

Let her return.

Let me forget.

Let her choose me.

Help me stop hoping.

Tell me it mattered.

Tell me why it ended.

Tell me what I am supposed

to do with all this love

now that it has nowhere to go.

I don’t hate you.

Sometimes I wish I did.

Maybe anger would be easier

than this strange mixture

of grief, hope, love, and knowing better.

Maybe letting go

is not forgetting.

Maybe it is not having an answer

and still choosing not to chase one.

Maybe it is leaving the note

on the tree.

Dropping the coin

into the well.

Saying the prayer

without knowing

which ending I actually want.

Maybe it is admitting:

I loved you.

I may still love you.

I know it is over.

And somehow,

I still do not understand

why my heart keeps asking

if it really is.

So every day I keep walking,

not because I am certain,

not because I am healed,

not because I finally understand—

but because I don’t know

what else to do.

And maybe,

somewhere in all that confusion,

I'll find clarity

Did letting go ever start to feel real for you, or did it happen so gradually that you only noticed later?

In our last lifetime together
There was a star.

One that caught my eye.

I followed him into the human world.
And you followed along.

You weren’t ready to let me go.
But I was ready for freedom.

I understand.
We spent every lifetime on Mother Earth together.

And we found each other in our human forms.
It was heartbreaking.

I love you forever and always.

Two vines tangled together,
one ready for freedom,
the other scared of the unknown.

You will find your star,
Just as I have.

And there will be a lifetime we come back together.

But for now,
let’s explore,
let’s love,
let’s heal.

Goodbye for now my lover.
We will be vines together again soon.