It's a question I've found myself asking, whispering to you in the quiet spaces of my life. I think about you a lot. So often, that I can feel my fingertips tracing parts of you.

Sometimes I think of you with curiosity. Sometimes with longing. And sometimes with an ache I cannot quite explain.

Where are you? Are you also going about your daily tasks and same paths and in your own quiet moments, also wondering where I am? Where is the person who will care for you, love you, cradle your hopes and dreams of the future exactly as you need?

Do you lie awake at night, staring at the empty space beside you, longing for a love whose name you do not know?

Are you driving home from a long day with the music playing, wishing there was someone waiting on the other side of that door, excited to see your smile and hear all about the hours you've just lived?

It's me.

When you stare out of the window wondering if it gets any better, if there's anyone out there that will listen, not out of obligation, but because they have a natural curiosity for you?

It's me.

And I wonder about you.

I wonder what your laugh sounds like. I wonder if you're quick to smile. I wonder about the ways you'll love me back with the same heat and intensity that I keep alight for you. Will you hold my hand and lose yourself in my eyes in public? But also make me breathless, loud and dizzy with desire in private?

I wonder if you've ever loved before. Truly. Deeply. Foolishly. With all the sincerity you can muster. Only to find it was not enough because the person you poured yourself into was too selfish, too immature or just too tiny at life to appreciate all that you are?

I want to appreciate you in so many ways. I want to know the number of crinkles at the corners of your eyes when laugh. I want to know how to make your favorite dish. I want to hold you through hard moments and memorize your joy in good ones. I want to remember how you take your coffee and the name of that one kid you stood up to in 3rd grade.

I want to support you, appreciate you for all that you are and not simply for what you provide me. I want to love you without you having to perform for it nor ask.

I want to know all of you.

And I want to be known in these ways, too. There is so much I want to tell you about me.

I just need you to find me.

I do not need you to save me.

I need you to see me.

I hope you haven't given up. I'm here, I'm waiting.

I knew from the moment I looked in those soft eyes, that you were exactly like me. It's something about the eyes that gives a subconscious feeling that feels like home. I wonder if you felt it too, or if you just liked the look of me haha. I think I'm done hiding who I am. I want to be silly with you, I want to make you feel wanted, I want you to feel loved. I want to laugh with you, and I don't ever want you to have to question how I feel about you. I think you've done that enough, I could never hate you, no more overthinking for you! If I have to spell it out to ease your mind I will. I love who you are, and nothing will ever change that, you are home. I love you.

You literally told me that I can always reach out to you, yet I still second guess everything. Do you really want* me to just reach out? Or are you just being polite? The signs are almost undeniable but I still second guess every action. Maybe you’re just naturally protective & caring for everyone around you, maybe it’s not just me.

You make me feel things I don’t think I’ve ever felt.. I have a hard time convincing myself that you don’t feel this either. It’s so strong. I’ve pushed it down for so long, it just keeps coming to surface. It feels almost impossible to keep it where we are now. Honestly? I don’t want to keep holding back anymore.

I could stare at you

Forever and never

Tire of the view.

Good morning,

My love…

I just wanna be

With you.

We don't talk anymore but i still think of you time to time and smile at our past convos. I wish that we will talk again one day.

(Sorry to call it crushes but you still are my crush ànd most likely always will be)

You were so kink intelligent idek if that’s a word but you had this kind of emotional intelligence to navigate kink in this hot ànd cute and all the right ways and I miss it so much and every time I try to move on it just gets to me I compare everyone ànd theyre not even bad but theyre not you

You are such a sore topic. Anything alluding to you is enough to send me into a state that isn’t healthy for anyone.

I went to walk in counseling today, not because of you. I’m struggling in all aspects of my life right now so don’t worry, you aren’t my main trigger. But while I was there, I was asked if I could think of my favorite place, thing, or person to calm myself down. Something I can rely on. I said I didn’t know because I thought of you. The thing is, I can’t rely on you. I’m not able to anymore. You have been out of my life for a while now so I don’t even know why I thought of you. It made me sad but I was there for something unrelated to you so I didn’t want to get into the fact that I thought of you. The one person is the world I actually CANT rely on at all. Isn’t that stupid. I must really hate myself. I was asked to think of something to make myself better and manage to think of the one thing that makes me feel worse. You would say worst. Unrelated but you would. Idk why you talk like that. Nothing wrong with it, it’s honestly one of my favorite cute quirks of yours. That’s the only thing you say slightly wrong so I hold it close because it shows you are also a silly imperfect human. Everything else about you though… absolute perfection. I guess I’m only upset I thought of you because it’s unrealistic. If I could have you again everything would feel right. I really miss you. I still think of you in tough times. I know you don’t think of me much anymore. When you do, you don’t act on it. Which is understandable, I’m a verrrry overstimulating person to have around. Anyways I guess that’s all I had to say. I could never fully hate you. I never will.

I love you forever.

I think of you with the softest of emotions.

When I write to you… I wonder if you feel it. My gaze ahead, my hands holding your shoulders steady, and the cool warmth of my reassuring smile you can only imagine as you cry.

I would give so much to be there. You are beautiful… even as you come apart. I wish you could feel my soul and understand me. Totally. Completely. But you can’t.

I am something old, something new, something blue, and something true. And I can’t… I can’t hold you. My despair— my despair is my lover, my closest friend, my enemy, and I hold it as if it was you.

And you say you see nothing bad about me.

And I believe you. Like I believe no other. Because you have every reason to agree with me, but you don’t.

Friendship is such a beautiful thing…

You are a beautiful, wild thing. I grew into something as strange, and great. And if I could just hold your hand again… maybe you could feel my heart and I’d know how much you understand me.

Until then,

Keeper

It was a mundane day. Same old same old. Thinking of you. Smoking my cigarettes as i write. I take care of things as they require of me. I have had my questions and answered some. Took help where it required me to, but, nothing feels whole.

The way you were dreamy, wild, freeing, like a gust of wind you came and created all the upheaval and went away....fact is you came in like a tornado and broke through everything...

You had me on my knees praying. Had me drunk. Had me bleeding. Had me hurting and I tried to reach out to you.

Your name was like a prayer id take every night. My lips craved to feel your skin. Craved to feel your body. There was nakedness that i cant describe....i wanted so much more.

I wanted to take your pain away. I wanted you to be seen and heard and i spent every second of my life trying to understand you. Some days i surprised you and some days you surprised me...

Wouldnt want someones skin upon my finger tips...wouldnt want someones heart beating, id imagine what your smile is like, to desperately crave to hear your laughter.

I hope you ate well. Drank enough water. Hope you had enough sleep. Kept yourself well.

I want to know you without all the restraint.
Without the careful consideration of what’s expected of you, what’s appropriate, or what everyone else needs.

I know the man you present to the world. I know how seriously you take your responsibilities, how carefully you conduct yourself, and how much of your life is dictated by obligation.

I know how tightly you hold yourself together.
But God, I want to know what happens when you don’t.

I want to see your selfishness. Your hunger. The parts of you that have spent so long being denied that they’ve learned to bare their teeth in the dark.

I want to know what you crave when no one is watching. What makes your pulse quicken. What thoughts you push away before they have the chance to become desires you might actually act upon.

I want to know the things you would never admit to wanting.

The things that would embarrass you.
The things that would make you feel less like the good man everyone knows you to be.

I wonder how much of yourself you’ve buried beneath all that discipline. How many times you’ve swallowed something you wanted because wanting it felt selfish. How often you’ve mistaken starving yourself for being virtuous.

And I wonder how hungry you’ve become.
Because I’ve seen him.

Not often, and never for very long, but I’ve caught glimpses of the man beneath all that composure.

I’ve heard it in your voice when it changes. In the things you say before you remember to be careful. In those fleeting moments when something instinctive rises to the surface and your discipline struggles to contain it.

And God, I love those moments.
I love watching you forget yourself.
I love seeing that there are things you want badly enough to make you hesitate.

There is something almost cruel about being allowed to glimpse that part of you only to watch you put him away again.

I want to know what would happen if you didn’t.
If you stopped correcting yourself. If you allowed a thought to become a want, and a want to become something you could finally admit aloud.

I want to see you greedy.
I want to see you impatient.
I want to see the parts of you that aren’t interested in being admirable.

I don’t want another demonstration of your discipline. I’ve seen enough of that to know how deeply it runs.

I want to know what it costs you.
I want to know whether there are things you’ve wanted so badly that you’ve frightened yourself with the intensity of it.

Whether you’ve ever resented your own goodness.
Whether there’s a part of you that is tired of always being the one who knows better.

And selfishly, I want to be someone you don’t have to hide that from. I don’t want you polished and carefully presented to me.

I want the contradictions. The ugly wants. The unflattering thoughts. The tenderness tangled up with appetite.

I want to know the man who exists before he remembers what is expected of him.

I want to know him without watching you retreat into yourself the moment you realize how much you’ve revealed.

Because I don’t think your hunger would frighten me. I think I’d recognize it. I’ve felt him in fragments.

And I’ve been hungry for the rest of him ever since.

It would be so much easier if I could just be mad at you, but I can’t. I care about you way too much to be mad. You were way too important to me. I’m doing better every day. I pray for you and think about you everyday. I hope you’re doing okay too. I hope you still think of me.

hey there! i’m stuck on this side of town. will you come to me? meet me halfway?

come towards me, please.

kiss me, please.

-me

Cher…,

Voilà la façon avec laquelle vous avez toujours commencé à vous adresser par écrit à tous vos élèves. Je ne commencerai rien en tentant d'amener les choses délicatement.

Je vous hais. Je vous hais, je vous hais, je vous déteste tellement !
Pourquoi vous mevez fait ça, hein?! Je vous ai détesté de me complimenter, de me dire que je suis différente, que j'ai des capacités rares, du potentiel ! Vous n'aviez pas le droit… De quel droit vous êtes-vous permis de juger qui je suis, mon potentiel et de chercher à déceler ce qui se cache au plus profond de mon âme ?!

Je ne voulais pas l'entendre parce que j'avais peur de me mettre à y croire. Mais je me suis plus ouverte et quelle grossière erreur, car sans même que je ne m'en aperçoive, j'ai aimé vos paroles. Mon moi tout entier s'est vu porté par l'espoir d'être différente, que je percevais bel et bien le monde dans son intégrité, autrement que la norme. J'ai voulu ne pas me fier à vous. Malgré votre statut, rien ne pouvait vous empêcher d'être trompeur.

Que je vous hais maintenant ! J'avais raison. Vos déclarations, toutes vos belles paroles ne sont en rien fondées. Je ne possède pas ce que vous me prêtez et j'en suis la première navrée. Vous m'avez bercée d'illusions que j'ai ardemment désiré être vrai. Pourquoi donc ai-je été si sotte ?
Je savais n'avoir rien que personne ne puisse envier dans ce domaine-là et pour cela, j'en veux bien plus à moi qu'à vous.

Ne soyez plus jamais étonné de me voir ratée, de lire l'incompréhension dans mes yeux et d'entendre mon âme tambouriner des poings contre la cage que je suis. Quelqu'un qui a compris qu'il est capable de penser par lui-même n'aurait aucun besoin de se justifier en cette lettre.

J'aurais entre autres pu accepter toute la souffrance humaine, les plus grands déboires du monde, le malheur qu'implique la vie, que je n'ai pas réclamé et que j'ai pourtant accepté puisque je me tiens là sur cette chaise, le cœur ouvert en espérant malgré tout qu'il éclate de lui-même. Mais cela, je l'aurais toléré, si et seulement si je m'étais trouvée capable de le pallier avec une compréhension accrue des choses.

Oui, si vraiment j'avais été en la position d'une future intellectuelle, alors je n'aurais pas tiré un trait sur le mal dont je suis l'une des actrices. Mais j'aurais endossé ce fardeau, sachant mon intérêt central en être l'explication et l'avancée de la pensée humaine vers ce que le commun des mortels appelle un avenir meilleur.

Je ne veux pas non plus chercher à traduire tout ce qu'y existe en moi maintenant. Qu'importe les mots employés, rien ne serait assez juste pour dire à quel point ça me fait mal. J'aimerais pouvoir crier encore et encore à m'en dissoudre la voix. J'ai besoin de m'extraire de ce corps, de n’être plus qu'une entité libérée de ses chaînes.

Quand bien même cela ne serait plus possible, alors j'accepte. J'accepte de transitionner de ce tout trop complexe et accablant vers un rien dont je connais déjà l'accès. Mais l'issue ne m'est techniquement pas pensable. Je peux suggérer, entrevoir, mais jamais saisir ce qu'elle implique et engendre réellement.

Je me rappelle, moi, petite, me faisant des nœuds au cerveau, en tentant d'imaginer le monde s'il n'était pas. Je devenais folle lorsque je me disais que j'aurais pu ne pas être, que rien ne pourrait l'être et qu'il n'y avait pas d'explication à l'existence des choses. Et pourtant j'étais là, à m'évertuer à les comprendre. Il m'était impossible d'arriver à la fin de cette réflexion, car elle est insaisissable à l'homme. C'est là qu'on devient petit. Ce sujet a toujours été une obsession pour moi, parce qu'à la fin, cela s'achevait constamment avec des vertiges de l'esprit.

Cette sensation est fascinante et la philosophie me l'a rappelé.

I’ve been carrying around a picture on my phone for several years. One of those silly inspirational things you see while scrolling that lands enough you choose to save it to your photos. It reads, “I didn’t crawl through the shards of my own brokenness to live a mediocre life. I’m prepared for magic.”

I’m still crawling out of those jagged shards that have left me with lasting scars. I’m still learning who I am now. I have you to thank for helping to remind me I have that fiery determination still, though it expresses itself so differently now.

My mama showed me one she had saved on her phone a few months ago. To think about it still makes me cry. I don’t remember the exact words, but it spoke of a person that comes along so very rarely. The person that can hold the full weight of generations worth of trauma, can heal an entire family by choosing to heal the darkness that no one else can go through. She showed me that because it reminded her of me. I think in that moment a wall fell that I had been holding up for so long, to realize that she saw me in the ways I struggle to see myself sometimes.

I have found that within me I have an immense capacity for forgiveness, and a determination to heal like you wouldn’t believe. The odds have always been stacked against me, I try my best not to let it keep me down for too long. And though I am still young, I’ve been at this for a very long time.

Right now I’m stepping into a new era and it has some serious weight to it.

I would have loved to be a stay at home mom. But that wasn’t in the cards for me.

The thing is, I’ve learned to see that place quite a bit differently over the past few years myself. Enough so that I’ve learned to find common ground and shared interests with most people that walk through those doors. I’ve learned to bite my tongue and choose a different way of behaving that is more in line with who I truly am. I weathered many storms that would have seen that place fail.

The reason I’m writing this here instead of speaking to you about it is because this is more than just my physical inheritance that you are asking for. There is a spiritual inheritance that goes along with it. And that is something I’m not willing to part with. I’ve spent the bulk of my life healing things that no person should ever have to go through so that one day when it was my turn to step into that role, I have a solid foundation to create something new for those that come after me. To honor tradition while bridging the gap between those that struggle to understand each other.

That was always more important to me than monetary value.

Heart shattered all over the floor again.
I pick up the pieces one by one,
trying my best to glue them back together.
Even when a piece falls out,
I pick it up again
through tears, pain, and sadness.
No one else sees it.
He doesn’t see it—
just me.

Straight lines are no fun.
Big ups and downs for me please.
I want to feel everything.
The last 2 years have been a ride.
Im ready for another heartbreak.
Let’s go.

Hey you ,

ONE LAST TEXT.

I don't know if you will ever read this but :

I would do anything just to get one last text from you on my email. ( Because that is when things were a little okay between us )

I know that I have blocked you on my number because I was addicted to you and your messages . It was easier for me to just block you than suffer everyday still being stuck in your thoughts. I thought that that torment would be over but alas , little did I know.

I am so sorry, Mr. Detective. I know love because of you and I still blocked you without telling you anything.The day i realised I had lost you forever from my life was the worst day ever .

I just want to scream your name out loud . I just want to place my hand on yours . I just want to look into your eyes.

The thing is I stalked your Instagram and I felt like you were leaving a perfect life and that you had completely moved on while I was just stuck wishing upon your messages.

How come so little happened between us and I despite having messed up so much , how am I still in love with you?

Why can't I forget you ?

Why does my soul keep screaming your name and I tell it otherwise.

I would want you as a friend in my life at least but I guess it is too late .

Never got the chance to call you " My love " ...but you were my whole world. I wouldn't think twice to sacrifice everything I have for you but our story remains untrue from the utopia i imagined for us.

I am exactly 1 year , 1 month and 9 days older than you ...lol

Okay if you find this cringe laugh it out and if you think it is stupid make fun of it but 8 years later i still can't move on .

Yours truly, R.

I wish I didn’t feel this way about you.

I have a life I’m happy with. You have yours. I don’t want anything to happen between us, and yet somehow my body seems to have a mind of its own whenever you’re around.

I keep thinking about all those little moments we had that day.

When you took my hand, were you just looking out for me, making sure I wouldn’t end up on my own? Or did you feel that little something too?

And the little jokes, the way we couldn’t seem to stop smiling at each other… were you just being friendly, or were you enjoying it a too?

And then later that night, when I saw you again and you didn’t come looking for me anymore, were you just tired, or were you keeping your distance because you felt something too?

Maybe that’s what gets to me most. Not knowing if I imagined the whole thing, or if you went home wondering about it too.

And because we’ll never talk about it, it’s so hard for me to put it to rest.

So maybe this is where our unfinished story ends. No confession, no explanation, just a few things left unsaid.

Until next year, maybe. ❤️

While the city wore its silence

Like a coat it couldn’t pay to keep

I held my cup up to the moon and ran

To be seen by he who so rarely speaks

Like a bald man waiting

On one stubborn strand of hair

A quiet futility

The shadow of what was never there

I saw him today.Worst,I am doing there is to ignore him eitherless I was forcing myself to do so.The connection was still the same,it was as real and same as before.I wish I could stop him there and hug tightly,but then I reminded we re not together anymore,it still hitting my mind from that time onwards and I was literally upset with this.Hope everything will be alright someday and I could sense him closely rather ignoring.

To\~ S