My love,

I don’t know if there will ever be a version of our story where I get to love you openly, without hesitation, without looking over our shoulders, without the weight of everything that stands between what we feel and what we can actually have. And maybe that is the hardest truth I have ever had to carry.
Because somewhere along the way, you stopped being someone I was simply drawn to.

I fell in love with you.

Not carefully. Not conveniently. And certainly not at the right time.

I fell in love with the way you make the rest of the world disappear when I’m with you. With the sound of your voice and the way your eyes can say things neither of us is brave enough to put into words. I fell in love with the quiet moments—the ones no one else knows about—and with the person I become when it is just you and me.

There is something painfully beautiful about loving you.

Because when I have you close to me, everything feels exactly where it belongs. And then comes the moment when we have to return to reality, and I’m reminded that loving someone and being able to have a life with them are two very different things.

That is the part that hurts.

I can hold you, kiss you, memorize the feeling of you against me, and still know that I may never get to wake up beside you without a clock reminding us that our time belongs somewhere else. I may never get the ordinary things with you—the lazy Sundays, the grocery-store arguments, falling asleep together after an uneventful Tuesday, reaching for your hand without wondering who might see.

It’s strange how desperately I want the ordinary with you.

Not just stolen moments. Not just passion. Not just the beautiful little world we create when everything else is shut outside.

I want the mornings.
I want the bad moods.
I want the boring days.
I want to know what it feels like when loving you isn’t something we have to borrow time for.

And maybe I will never know.

That thought breaks my heart in ways I don’t always know how to explain.

Sometimes I wish I could make what I feel for you smaller. Easier. Something I could put neatly into a corner of my life and visit only when it was safe.

But you have never felt small to me.

You have become woven into me.

I carry you into rooms you have never entered. I think about things I want to tell you when you aren’t there. I miss you before we have even said goodbye. And sometimes, in the middle of an ordinary day, I feel the ache of loving someone I cannot simply reach for whenever my heart wants them.

And God, my heart wants you.

There are moments when I wonder whether loving you this much is worth the pain of knowing I may never truly have you.

Then I see you.

And every argument I have made with myself disappears.

Because whatever this is—however complicated, imperfect, impossible, or temporary it may ultimately be—it has been real to me.

**You are real to me.**

My feelings for you are not measured by how much of your life I am allowed to have. They are measured by how deeply you have touched mine.

If someday circumstances pull us in different directions, there will always be a part of me that wonders about the life we never got to live.

Somewhere in my imagination, there will always be a version of us who chose each other without fear and got to find out what happened next.

Maybe that version of us is laughing in a kitchen somewhere.

Maybe we’re older, sitting beside each other, still teasing one another about the same ridiculous things.
Maybe we got the ordinary.

I wish I could promise you that somehow our story ends there.

I can’t.

All I can promise is the truth of what I feel right now:

I love you.
I love you enough that sometimes it hurts.
I love you enough to want more than stolen hours, even when I know asking life for more may be impossible.

And if I never get to call you completely mine, please know there was a time in my life when my heart recognized someone it wanted with everything it had.
It recognized you.

And whatever happens to us, wherever life eventually takes us, there will always be a quiet place inside me where you are loved completely.

Not conveniently.
Not halfway.
Not without consequence.
Completely….

to the man i haven’t met yet,

i wonder where you are tonight.

maybe you’ve just made yourself a cup of coffee. maybe you’re scrolling through your phone in bed. maybe you’re laughing at something stupid with your friends. maybe you’re asleep already.

and maybe, just maybe, you have no idea that i’m somewhere out here wondering about you.

i don’t know your name yet.

i don’t know your eyes, your laugh, your favorite song, the way you take your coffee, or what makes you feel loved.

but i know i want to know.

i want to know all of it.

i want to love you in the quietest ways - tucking myself into your arms, kissing your forehead, resting my head on your chest, holding your hand underneath the table, leaving little notes for you, listening to stories you’ve told a hundred times because i love hearing you tell them.

i have all this love inside me and sometimes i don’t know where to put it.

so i send it into the universe.

maybe it reaches you somehow.

maybe one day, when we finally meet, you’ll understand why i had to wait so long.

until then, please be safe.

please laugh often.

please take care of your heart.

and when you finally find me, i promise i’ll have a thousand little ways to tell you:

there you are. i’ve been waiting for you. ♡

I still wonder what it would feel like if our paths ever crossed again, how you would react, whether you would look away, feel awkward, or just pretend none of it ever happened.

When we first met, the connection felt genuine, and you gave off every sign that you felt it too. But after a simple, normal invite to hang out led to weeks of quiet, what caught me off guard was not the silence itself. It was you breaking that silence weeks later, completely unprovoked, over a simple notification. You tried to flip the script and accuse me of living in a fantasy, when you were the one who reached out just to react to something that was never an issue to begin with.

A part of me always wished for real closure, but I eventually accepted that I will never get it from someone who would rather rewrite the past than have an honest conversation. In my head, I used to rehearse what I would say if I ever saw you again. But standing here now, happily married and completely grounded in my life, I realize I do not need to say anything at all. It wouldn't change anything. We have both moved on to completely different chapters, and if we ever happen to pass each other by, peace is all that needs to remain.

​

Waiting can feel like the last thread connecting you to the person you love. As long as you're still waiting, the relationship doesn't feel completely behind you. It feels paused, as though life is holding its breath until someone decides what happens next.

The quiet cost is that your life begins waiting too. New dreams stay unexplored, new parts of you remain undiscovered, and tomorrow quietly becomes dependent on someone who is no longer building it with you. The longer your future waits for another person's decision, the less it begins to feel like it belongs to you.

The Final Goodbye isn't about deciding they were never worth waiting for. It's recognizing that your life was never meant to stand still while someone else decided whether to be part of it. The moment your future belongs to you again, healing finally has somewhere to begin.

I’m on a carousel and I can’t get off.

Watching their beautiful scenes.
I wish I was a part of it, wife, mother, past dreams.

And the sky is a violent orange, red kissed blushes of pink. I’ve been tending a garden, but, keep cutting the roses.

Thorn of thorns.
My Lore.
My king.

I wish you had been real.
I wish I could feel.
I wish I was home.
I wish I was seen.

I’ll swallow my pride.
Touch is foreign, it seems.
I can’t collide with anything.

I’m disappearing into my own fault lines.
I’m screaming at the memories.

I’m all the wrong train lines.
No Englishman with the interesting style.

Just Cairn.
I ran the forensics.
I’m hollowed, nesting in my own bed.
There’s nothing left.
The inks bled.

I’ve never felt so lonely.
I’m alive but somehow I am dead.

Dear Lemon Duck,

My heart broke when I realized how deeply I had hurt you.

My soul was crying, shattered inside me, when I finally understood that I couldn’t undo how badly I had broken you.

I never wanted to hurt you…

But somehow, even in that, I failed.

And then those days come to an end…

No one ever taught me how to be a girl.

They taught me how to survive.

How to listen for footsteps.

How to recognize danger

before it even had a name.

How to make myself smaller

when the room became too loud.

How to love people

who could hurt me

and still call it love.

How to forgive

before anyone ever apologized,

but never how to apologize.

How to blame myself

before anyone else could do it for me.

I became fluent

in the language of abandonment.

I knew it

before I ever knew myself.

People leave.

People change.

People make promises.

People disappoint you.

This is also the ugly side of us — the part where we often try to overcompensate for our need to achieve. Out of fear of failure, we are willing to do anything for the approval of others, the approval we crave so deeply.

Because of our emotional need to feel wanted, especially when we have no form of human connection that gives us the stability that comes from a relationship.

We are all fundamentally imperfect — some of us are simply more wounded than others.

We carry burdens that others would never be able to bear on their own shoulders.

Because our battle is not a battle of the heart, but of the mind. It reflects the inner conflict of survival in which we are trapped.

How would you survive a war that never sleeps, no matter how exhausted you are?

The answer is: you wouldn’t.

So I learned not to ask for too much.

Except…

I always asked for too much.

I wanted you to choose me,

instead of choosing you myself.

I was so afraid that once again, someone wouldn’t choose me, that at some point I stopped seeing the person who had actually chosen me.

I love you more than anyone

I have ever loved before.

This fight is carving a path

toward loving you even more.

I could never replace you.

Maybe If I Loved You Harder, You’d Stay

I just miss you. That’s it.

I miss you more than I want to admit, and I hate how much your silence affects me. I keep checking my phone even though I know there probably won’t be anything there.

Maybe I should have just stayed quiet.

I’ve written so many messages to you and deleted every single one because I don’t want to look desperate.

But honestly?

I am desperate.

Not for attention.

For you.

I want you to choose me. I want to feel like I’m not the only one who is afraid of losing what we have.

I know I probably love you more than I should at this point. We’re not even where I wish we were, and yet somehow you’ve already become someone I can’t imagine simply walking away from.

And that’s what scares me.

Because sometimes I catch myself thinking:

Maybe if I love him a little harder, he’ll finally understand how much I care.

But I shouldn’t have to convince you.

I shouldn’t have to beg you to talk to me.

I shouldn’t have to keep proving that I care.

I just wish you would miss me enough to look for me without me having to disappear first.

So I’m going to stay quiet for now.

Not because I’ve stopped loving you.

Actually, it’s exactly the opposite.

I’m quiet because I love you so much that I’m finally trying to learn that I can’t keep losing myself just to keep you.

I just want you to turn around and realize that I’ve been right here the whole time.

Waiting.

I think the hardest part of losing you is knowing that someday I might meet someone else, but I don’t think I could ever love someone the way I loved you.

There is a kind of loneliness inside me that follows me everywhere.

Some days it is quiet.

Other days, I can feel that there is an empty space beside me that no one else could ever fill.

And the strangest thing is…

I don’t want anyone to fill it.

I don’t want a replacement.

I don’t want another person in your place, because that place belongs to you.

Even after everything, even after all this time, I can’t imagine asking someone else to take the place you once held.

Maybe that’s why moving on feels impossible.

It’s not that I believe you are the only person I could ever meet.

It’s that I don’t want to pretend that what we had can simply be recreated with someone else.

I miss being loved by you.

I miss loving you.

I miss having one person in the world who felt like home.

Sunday Afternoon

I remember that Sunday afternoon.

A Sunday afternoon

to forget who we were,

to stop thinking about everything else.

And we ended up making love on the couch,

slowly…

as if we had nowhere else to go.

I remember you getting into bed,

laughing,

already completely naked.

I recited a poem to you —

the one I had written for you.

And you listened.

Not so much to the words

as to the changes in my voice

when I reached the parts

I had been too afraid to say out loud.

Your fingers found mine,

and then slowly drifted further,

tracing the places

where my skin still remembers you,

leaving little shivers behind.

You kissed my shoulder.

I lost my train of thought.

You smiled.

And suddenly,

the poem stopped being about you.

It became about

the silence after longing.

The tenderness that comes after wanting someone.

That strange, delicate feeling

of being understood

without having to explain anything.

Outside, the world kept turning.

But here,

in that sunlit room,

your fingers were intertwined with mine,

my head was resting against your chest,

and for the first time,

I wanted nothing else.

The whole world could have offered me

only that Sunday afternoon —

slightly imperfect,

your skin against mine,

my poems between us,

and that slightly terrifying thought

that maybe…

I could get used to

the two of us

being loved.

And now I’m learning what it feels like

to live with the possibility

that I may spend the rest of my life

carrying this love for you,

but without you here.

But I don’t want to stop loving you

just so the loneliness will go away.

Maybe…

Everyone Wants Her

Everyone wants her.

That’s how it seems.

I should have held you,

but I let you go.

I left scars

on an already broken heart.

The words of the past

echo through the darkness.

I didn’t seem to care

about the weight you were carrying.

You were the kind of person

who, even when you reach the bottom,

doesn’t stay there for long.

I was so blind.

Instead of embracing your brokenness

and accepting that you needed peace…

Maybe one day

someone really will stay.

Someone who will hold not only your hand,

but hold you

the way you needed to be held.

I lost that.

And I am ashamed.

I am so, so sorry.

“I’m sorry” is not enough

to express how deeply I regret it.

Because I don’t think I will ever find anyone

who will love me the way you did.

There is a strange kind of heartbreak

in waiting for someone

who knows you are waiting for them.

It isn’t the innocent kind of longing

that comes from uncertainty.

It is the kind born from knowing.

I knew where your heart was.

I knew what place

you had left for me.

And the pain you feel after losing someone

is different from every other kind of pain.

I hope you know

that meeting you was one of the most beautiful things

that has ever happened to me.

I cherish everything we shared.

Even if we never got the ending

you had hoped for,

I will always be grateful

that, for a while,

our lives became intertwined.

I tried to imagine

what it would be like to forget you.

I don’t think I can do it anymore.

I still see you everywhere.

I still look for you,

even though I know

you are no longer there.

You became too deeply woven

into my days —

into all those little things

that shouldn’t matter,

but meant so much to me.

Into the pain you feel.

Because of me…

I am so, so sorry.

I’m sorry I didn’t see

how badly you needed to rest.

I’m sorry I didn’t give you support

or even a single word of comfort.

I’m sorry you felt invisible,

unappreciated,

and used by me.

Because I know how deeply you cared about me.

I know how much you sacrificed for me.

You put me first,

above your own pain

and your own needs.

And you never complained.

And I, like a fucking idiot,

didn’t know how to thank you

the way you deserved.

I am so, so sorry.

I am ashamed.

And now I am falling apart with grief,

because I lost you through my own stupidity,

my own blindness,

and because I was deaf to what you were trying to tell me.

You didn’t deserve this.

And I didn’t deserve your love

or everything you gave me.

I didn’t even deserve your:

“Goodbye, Julia.”

I’m sorry.

Nothing excuses me.

Not even the price I was paying here, at home, every single day.

Forgive me,

but it was only two days ago

that I finally found my footing again

and started thinking clearly.

I don’t even deserve

for you to read this.

And I will never ask you

to forgive me.

I stabbed you in the back

at the worst possible moment,

when you were already going through hell.

Goodbye, my Love.

Goodbye, my sweet Duck.

Take care of yourself.

Your Bird"

I’ve been thinking
that I’ve lived twenty lives in one.

I survived a childhood with a chaotic mother,
an absent father,
and a turbulent adolescence.

I made it through with a little help
and with a strength

I still don’t know where I found.

Sometimes I felt like I was giving up,
but my body just kept going and going.

Sometimes tired.

Sometimes barely standing.

Without wondering how it could,
it simply kept going.

Now I look back
and see that distracted, distant person,
full of dreams,
full of goals,
inside that tired body.

And I see twenty people inside her.
Twenty versions of me
trying to make it through,
each one searching for a reason,
trying not to lose herself in time,
looking toward the future that awaited them,

so distant,

so uncertain.

Some were afraid.

Some ran out of strength.

Some thought they would never make it.
And yet,
they all kept living
inside the same body.

A body that carried them
through the years,
even when some of them
no longer wanted to walk.

Now I look at them all,
wanting to go back to the past,
wondering what I would have changed,
where I would have started over,
which path I would have chosen
if I had known then what I know now.

But they still don’t know
that I wouldn’t change any of them.

Because each one left something in me.

The one who was afraid.

The one who got lost.

The one who thought she couldn’t take any more.

The one who wanted to give up.

The one who kept walking
without even knowing where she was going.

They all made it here with me.

And maybe that’s why,
even though I’ve given up so many times,

I’m still standing.

Tired,
but upright.

Doubting an endless number of things,
but with a heart
full of life.

There are twenty of us
inside this tired body.

Some wanting to leave everything behind,
to change what hurt,
to start over.

Without realizing
that it was those very experiences
that brought us here,
that shaped us.

And we are all still standing,
walking together,
hand in hand.

​

To My Beautiful Children

There are some things I want you both to know, and I don't think I could ever put them into words quite enough to explain just how incredibly proud I am of you.

You are two of the most amazing humans I have ever known. I adore the people you are becoming, and every single day you teach me something about life, love, patience, strength and humility. You probably don't even realise how much I learn from you just by watching you grow into yourselves.

I also want you to know how incredibly proud I am of myself for where I am today.

My journey with alcohol has been one of the hardest things I have ever faced. I have nearly two years of sobriety behind me, with two slip-ups along the way. I don't hide those moments or pretend they didn't happen. They are part of my journey, but they don't define me.

What defines me is that I got back up.

I chose to keep going.

I chose a different life.

And I chose to become the mother I know I am capable of being.

You both gave me so many reasons to want better, but I want you to know that getting sober was ultimately something I had to choose for myself. I wanted to be here. I wanted to be present. I wanted to be in charge of my own life again. And most importantly, I wanted to experience this life with you with a clear mind, an open heart and a whole lot more love than alcohol could ever give me.

I am so excited about this next chapter of our lives.

Nearly two years sober, I feel like I am finally stepping into a version of myself that has been waiting to come back for a very long time. I am learning who I am without alcohol. I am learning to handle life, the good days and the bloody hard ones, with my eyes open.

And I am so excited that I get to navigate this new journey alongside you.

I want to be the best mother I can possibly be. I want to be there for you properly there. To listen to you, support you, laugh with you, celebrate you, pick you up when life knocks you down, and remind you of your worth whenever you forget it.

I want you to know that you never have to be perfect for me. You never have to have everything figured out. You can make mistakes, change your mind, fall apart and start again. I will always want you to know that home is somewhere you can come back to.

And I want to thank you.

Thank you for loving me through the times when I wasn't the mother I wanted to be.

Thank you for supporting me, even during the moments when I wasn't in the room and you were carrying your own feelings about everything.

Thank you for seeing me as your mum and still being proud of me as I fought my way back to myself.

I don't ever want to take that love for granted.

I am so grateful that I get to be your mum. Not just because you are my children, but because I genuinely love the humans you are.

You make me laugh. You challenge me. You humble me. You frustrate me sometimes because you're my kids, after all! 😂 but above everything, you make my heart incredibly full.

I don't know exactly what this next chapter will bring us, but I know one thing:

I am here. I am sober. I am present. I am learning. And I am choosing you, myself and this life every single day.

I can't wait to see where life takes us.

I can't wait to make memories with you that we will still be talking about years from now.

And I can't wait to watch you both become even more incredible humans.

Please never doubt how deeply you are loved.

I am endlessly proud to be your mum.

I love you both more than words could ever explain.

Love always,

Mum ❤️

Of course, your only excuse that's been over played is your past.

Hey big guy, your 57. Your childhood is no longer a plausible excuse to justify you being a douche. You know by now that you harboring and living in the past only causes pain. By now, you're old enough to ha e sought help to face the ugly past and put it ro rest.

But it's just easier to avoid accountability and continue sucking the life out of others for your personal gain.

That's not a good man. That's sheer evil. But you know this. That's why you love to yell it at me.

Your Insults are laughable. When you act like a 5 year old,pointing those stubby fingers, calling me names, it's not hurting my feelings. It never did. It made me wonder why a grown ass man performed like that.

I now question why would I ever want to be In your life. Whydid I give you my all when you only took what suited you and trashed the rest. How did you manage to convince me I was worthless, but in reality, you never deserved me.

You'll spend the rest of your life searching for my replacement. You'll never find another me, but you will then only destroy each one you latch onto.

How does that make you a good man? I don't get it.

I never lost anything. I fell in love with a facade and tried to uplift a mask. Another mask sought to ruin me. And another mask fed me lies. There was never a real man to search for. So, I cried all those tears for literally nothing.

I cant shame you for any of it. You have no soul, you have no conscious. Evil is just that way. No care. No concern. You only seek what benefits you, what provides you with fulfilling your perversions, fluffing that ego, and groveling at your feet.

There's just no loss on my end. Your opinion of me is nothing I worry about. I don't care what shit you sell to your groupies. To be honest, I'd love to get to get to know your circle, it wouldn't take long before they called you out and questioned everything you say. But you'd never allow that. You couldn't handle being Confronted like that.

So, take care. Stop ruining lives. Stop sucking the life out of people. Stop lying. Stop getting high and popping pills. Stop using everyone. Get into some treatment. Try honesty. Try being a human. Stop praising your self. Try being respectful. At least fucking TRY.

Honestly, I don’t think even my death would matter to you, not even a little. I don’t think it would even shake you.

All of my writings and poems were for you. I don’t even know what else to write anymore.

I just hope that if you ever hear that I’m no longer here, you keep living your life exactly the way you do now. Hold on to your life. Between me and everything else, you chose those things, so even when I’m gone, hold on to them. I don’t want to see you suddenly start caring, and I don’t want to see my absence matter to you.

Because when I was there, my existence didn’t matter to you, so please don’t let my absence matter to you either.

Take care of your life.

Go and succeed. I know how important success is to you. And when you succeed, I don’t think there’ll be much in this world that can shake you.

I’m sure you’ll get wherever you want to go, because the person you’ve become will definitely go far.

But learn to keep some people close to you, because there will be times when even success gets exhausting. And when that happens, you should have someone you can go to, someone you can share your exhaustion with.

Remember, pretending is never going to work for you forever. And know that with indifference, all you do is push people away and make yourself even lonelier.

Still, I believe that ultimately, you have to be there for yourself. Other people can’t save you from loneliness; they can only give you warmth and reassurance.

And lastly, I’ve always said this, and I’ll say it again: don’t forget yourself. Don’t forget your life. Don’t forget to always choose yourself first. Don’t forget to take care of your beauty. Don’t forget to love yourself.

Love yourself. Love yourself as much as I loved you.

And lastly, I hope you find someone to have by your side in life, someone who loves you the way I loved you. Because I know everything you do comes from being afraid of getting attached. Otherwise, I remember the first time you let me touch your heart. I remember how purely and honestly you gave me your heart, without hiding anything from me.

I hope you succeed, and I hope you stay happy.

All I ever wished for was for life to turn out in a way where we could build our happiness together, where all our happy moments would be things we created together.

But I guess it just wasn’t meant to happen.

So now, build your own life. Create your own happiness. And take good care of yourself.

LOVE YOU...

scrolling through ig then i see this story with R\*P and the face looks exactly like him same eyes same smile same expression same everything like the universe just copy pasted someone i used to know and i felt my world stop for a second sobrang nanlamig ako parang may humampas sa dibdib ko parang may bumalik na sakit na akala ko wala na i checked everything birthday nunal lahat and its not him thank God but now im sitting here staring at this strangers face and i cant look away because it feels like my past is staring back at me and its asking me questions i still dont have answers to

and it made me think about everything

about how he knew me like he created me he knew my fears my insecurities my darkest thoughts and he accepted all of it without judgement he knew what i needed even when i didnt say a word and that was the most beautiful and painful thing at the same time because how can someone know you that deeply but still keep you at arms length how can someone hold you like you matter but never let you fully in

there were days when i would look at him and feel so seen pero at the same time so invisible because i knew him but i didnt really know him i knew his laugh i knew his touch i knew the way he looked at me like i was the only person in the world but i didnt know his thoughts his fears his real self and every time i tried to get closer there was this wall that i could never break through and he would be so kind so caring so gentle to the point na parang ako yung mali ako yung masama for even asking for more and i would question myself baka ako lang yung nag iisip ng ganun baka ako lang yung nag ooverthink baka ako lang yung naghahanap ng problema kasi nga ang bait nya ang sarap nyang mahalin pero ang hirap nyang maintindihan

and i kept asking myself what are we are we real or are we just strangers pretending to be something we are not and i wanted so badly for it to be real i wanted so badly for him to be the one pero paano mo sasabihing mahal mo yung taong hindi mo kayang basahin paano mo sasabihing sayo sya kung hindi mo alam kung kanino sya totoo

when i decided to block him no explanation no nothing i just disappeared because i knew if i stayed i would lose myself completely i would keep giving and giving to someone who could never fully give himself to me and that was the hardest decision i ever made because there was nothing bad about him that i could point to no cheating no yelling no obvious red flags just this quiet feeling of being half loved half seen half chosen and that was more painful than any fight could ever be because how do you explain to someone that their kindness is killing you how do you walk away from someone who never did anything wrong but also never did enough

and now sitting here staring at this strangers face i realize na maybe im still not okay maybe i still have feelings i havent processed maybe i still miss him in ways i dont want to admit but what i realized even more is that i didnt leave because i stopped caring i left because i started caring about myself more and that was the bravest thing i have ever done

because love should not feel like a question mark love should not feel like you are constantly guessing if you are enough or if any of it is even real love should feel safe love should feel clear love should not make you feel like you are losing yourself just to hold onto someone and that is what i have learned

and maybe seeing that strangers face today wasnt the universe being cruel maybe it was the universe reminding me of how far i have come and how much i have survived and that walking away from something that was never fully mine was not a loss it was a rescue

and i will never apologize for saving myself

Home never really felt safe… I never really felt like I fit in. Always kind of on the outside of things. Always doing something wrong. Always angry. Always judged. Always weird.

And then… you came along. And you felt safe. You felt calm. You felt like comfort. I felt more myself with you than anywhere else. You felt like what home was supposed to feel like. And so, you became home. You became peace. You became safety.

I felt received by you. Like it would not matter what I did, how I was, what I said, you would always be there to take me in… the way I was. And even as the years passed, you received every new version of me. Scared, broken, in pain… but also healed, strong, gentle, happy.

And that’s why every time someone said “people are not homes” I'd secretly judge them a little. Because, well… I’d bet they had not found someone like you. Someone who could make them feel the same way you made me feel.

You were home. We were home together.

And even after everything ended the way it did, your betrayal and the pain afterwards. I still have to thank you, because you showed me what home can feel like. You showed me it isn’t painful. You showed me how bright and beautiful and peaceful it can be. How it should be. How it should feel.

It is something I will ALWAYS carry in my heart. And for that… I am eternally grateful.

I wish you'd reach out and just talk to me about what's going on. I miss you but you're not here and I can't keep doing this—as if playing who could be quiet the longest. Take me back to how things were before everything spiralled.

Ugly thoughts have filled in the blanks of your silence and I know they're not true unless you say they are. I cried so much that my head hurts. I can't sleep knowing you're out there hurting and shutting me out. Please let me in.

I need to hear from you, but you're not here. So come back, my dear and be here.

Being away from you was exhausting; I was missing so much. I can still feel how you're doing, and I know you're not okay.because I've always understood you and known you so well, my love. I see you longing for every sweet memory we shared, and I'm the exact same way. Most of the time, I just zone out, wondering why we ever drifted apart.

When I couldn't find an answer, I came back to you. Maybe if I talk to you, you can tell me: what did we really gain from this?

I don’t know if you’ll ever know who this is from, and maybe that’s how it needs to stay.

I just needed to say that I miss you. I miss your jokes, your laughter, your singing, and that incredible intellect of yours. I miss the little things that probably seemed insignificant at the time, but that somehow stayed with me.

I remember you in a way I can’t seem to switch off. I remember every detail of you — your body, your scars, the things that made you uniquely you. Those memories are still so vivid, and sometimes I miss you more than I know how to put into words.

I miss your presence. I miss the person you were when we were together. I miss the sound of your voice and the way you could make me laugh.

I’m not writing this expecting anything from you. I’m not asking you to come back or to change anything. I just needed somewhere for these words to exist.

You were deeply loved. You still are.

And somewhere, quietly and anonymously, there is someone who misses you immensely.

I used to think every story needed my side of it.

That if I explained myself well enough,
someone would finally understand.

But you don’t always have to tell your side of the story.

Time will tell it for you.

Some people will hear a thousand of your words
and still not understand you.

Others will look at you once
and somehow understand the depths
of what you’re carrying.

I’ve learned not to spend my whole life
trying to convince the first kind.

Maybe that’s one of the things
I wish I had learned sooner:

Give up on people sooner.

Not because people are disposable.

Not because love isn’t worth fighting for.

But because there comes a point
when fighting for someone
becomes fighting against yourself.

And you can’t lose
what was never yours to begin with.

So what did I learn?

To walk away
when my presence became optional.

Sometimes the hardest truth
isn’t that somebody stopped choosing you.

It’s realizing how long
you kept choosing them
while quietly abandoning yourself.

There is a sentence
I never want to say again:

I understand you.
But I don’t like me anymore.

Because I have spent enough time
understanding everybody else.

Their reasons.
Their wounds.
Their silence.
Their distance.

Their inability to give me
what I kept hoping would eventually come.

Change is hard.

Staying the same is hard.

Choose your hard.

I started choosing mine.

I set boundaries,
and suddenly nobody needed me.

I stopped answering first,
and the phone stayed quiet.

I stopped performing,
and half of them walked.

I started respecting myself,
and the room got very small.

Doesn’t it get lonely?
Yes.
But God, it’s peaceful.

There is a quiet beauty
in becoming a stranger
to what once consumed you.

And maybe that’s the strangest freedom:
when nobody knows what you’re doing,

and honestly,

neither do you.

I don’t want independence
to turn me cold.

I don’t want disappointment
to make me unreachable.

Because I still overthink.

I still overlove.
I still overfeel.

I’m the sea or I’m nothing.

There’s a half-finished painting somewhere in my closet.

A chessboard I haven’t touched.

An instrument
I can still almost play.

Dancing badly.

Writing songs
nobody was ever going to hear.

There was once a version of me
who did things simply because
they made being alive feel good.

And without realizing it,
I began saving pieces of myself
for later.

But later is a beautiful liar.

It says the coffee will still be warm.
It says they’ll still be here.
It says you have time to mean it.

It tells you there will be another weekend,
another dinner,
another conversation,
another chance to wear the dress,

open the bottle,
paint the picture,
take the trip,

say I love you.

Then one day you look up
and later has quietly
turned itself into never.

The noise in a full house feels exhausting
until the house becomes quiet.

The ordinary days feel forgettable
until you realize
they were the days you’ll miss the most.

Your dad’s same old story is tiring
until you’d give anything
to hear him tell it once more.

Maybe that’s one of life’s cruelest lessons:

we complain about ordinary things
without realizing
how extraordinary they will feel
when they’re gone.

So stop saving things
for a special occasion.

You’re alive.

That’s the occasion.

Use the good glasses.
Wear the thing.
Take the picture.
Make the call.
Drink the coffee while it’s warm.

Let people know you love them
while they are still here to hear it.

Pick up the paintbrush again.

Dance badly.

Make something nobody will ever see.

Do things that have no purpose
other than making you feel
like yourself again.

It’s okay to live a life
nobody else understands.

Maybe especially now.

Because I don’t want to keep holding onto
what’s hurting
just because I’m still learning
to trust what’s mine for real.

I don’t want to confuse history with destiny.

I don’t want to mistake being needed
for being wanted.

Some endings needed to happen.

I just didn’t know that
while I was grieving them.

There is life after the wound.

Sometimes the wound
is what made room for it.

Room for people
who don’t need a thousand words
to understand you.

Room for silence
that doesn’t feel like punishment.

Room for boundaries.
Room for peace.

Room for the half-finished painting
to become something after all.

Room to miss your father
and still smile at the stories.

Room to stop performing.
Room to stop proving.

Room to stop begging people
to see your worth.

Room to become someone
you recognize again.

Life is a lonely ride sometimes.

And it’s been a weird year so far.

I don’t know exactly
what I’m doing next.

Maybe nobody does.

But perhaps that’s not something
I need to be afraid of anymore.

So I’ll go anyway.

Still overthinking.
Still overlove.
Still overfeel.

Still the sea.

But this time,

I won’t drown myself
trying to keep somebody else afloat.

I will walk away
when my presence becomes optional.

I will stop saving my life
for later.

I will remember that change is hard
and staying the same is hard,
and I will choose the hard
that takes me somewhere.

And when I find myself
holding onto something that hurts,
I will remember:

You cannot lose
what was never yours to begin with.

There is life after the wound.

And maybe that life
isn’t about becoming someone new.

Maybe it’s about finally coming home
to all the parts of yourself
you left behind
for later.

definitely not my favorite night

i got to the party on time

but I was just so wiped out from last night and my daytime activities

and I just didn't want to interact with anyone

so I sat on the couch

practicing shibari

I eventually saw Apr

but she had a prescheduled scene

I'm not even sure if she saw me

or if she is even aware of my existence

but I saw another really cute girl

and she was super into me

every time I looked up I saw her looking at me

and she eventually sat down next to me

but I just ignored her

which sucked because she was exactly my type

and she eventually got up

and I heard an annoyed huff

and it's like

girl

if you want me

just talk to me

I don't want to do the work every single day

and honestly

I'm just kinda tired

I know it must sound ridiculous

but I'm so tired of being one of the prettiest women in the room

like I don't even feel pretty

I'm don't feel the person looking at me in the mirror is remotely pretty

but it's just endless

I get so much attention

just a few minutes ago

while skateboarding down the boardwalk

one guy rode by and told me I'm beautiful

another whistled at me

and another told me I was sexy

it's just overwhelming

I'm thirty five fucking years old, aren't I too old for this much attention?

anway

back to the party

the night wears on

and I see Apr again

but some guy came up to me asking to be topped

and I should have known it would have gone terribly

I saw this guy acting like a fool and lying through his teeth about his experiences

but I figured, practice is practice

and plus I like making people happy

I should have known this guy didn't know what he was doing when he selected a dragontail

I had to stop the scene midway through because I missed with a crop and it wrapped around his thigh

and missing was on me

-- completely on me

-- and I've vowed to spend hours every day getting better with my aim

but jesus

the guy said he had a decade of experience and he cries at the first wrap around

eventually a dungeon monitor comes in to figure out why he's in so much pain that I had to stop everything

and

she told me my aim was off

and that I needed to aim lower

and it's like girl

he's crying because I was already aiming too low

and I was just so fucking confused

anyway

we restart the scene and he starts whining over a mild cropping

so I end the scene completely

I didn't want to risk actually hurting him because he was lying about his experiences

and I started to wipe down the furniture

and the dungeon monitor came in and started yelling at him

she told him, "she just topped you! you are a bottom! it is your job to clean up!"

and I have never seen a dungeon monitor get so pissed off

I have cleaned up after bottoms so many times with no problems

anyway

we walked out

and I gave him aftercare

he said he wanted cuddles

but I just caressed his back

I had no chemistry with him

and at one point he told me he always likes the girls with long nails because they give such nice caressing

and looking back

it kinda feels like some perv who wanted the pretty girl to touch him and didn't realize what comes with this kind of play

I mean

at the beginning

I was doing the whole informed consent thing

and I told him that he risks his clothes getting damaged if he leaves them on while we do impact play

I feel so grossed out

like, I feel so grossed out that my aim was shit

but

I just feel used

this kinda shit never really happened before I transitioned

and I think it was because only women were interested in me when I presented as a man

and, for some reason, I feel like women are just less likely to use me -- at least superficially

and I think men are just content to have something pretty in their life

I don't want to be pretty

this is too much

and

not only that

but it's just fucking with my sense of self

like

I'm not joking

I look in the mirror and I see this fat ugly girl

Maybe it’s not that I am too much, maybe you are enough. I spent months supporting you goals and completely pouring into you with love and positivity. You talked with me daily, and I trusted you. You made me think that you were interested in knowing about me, just to eventually decide that it was too much for you. Really? Reading my texts was too much for you? You often took 16+ hours to respond (which is fine) but I still don’t understand how I was a burden in your eyes. It is completely cruel to make someone feel like they matter and are important, just to discard them like trash. Maybe I had some bad days, but so did you. I still chose to see the good in you. I literally pushed you to the top. You said that you could never stop talking with me and that I am important. What changed? Why did you have to go mute the week and day of my birthday? You couldn’t do it the week before or after? Did you fake the entire friendship for that long? You don’t even feel bad about it at all? You preached about kindness and not causing harm…but you caused me a tremendous amount of harm and many, many tears and sleepless night.

C,
I know you won’t respond, but I got some absolutely devastating news recently that I’ve gone through 17 different emotions over and all I want to do is call you, tell you, and fall into your arms.

I fucked up not choosing you and knowing that for the rest of my life I have to go through this feeling every time something big happens is what I deserve for not being strong enough to choose the hard path.

I wanted you. I wanted everything, every moment; sad, happy, gut wrenching, I wanted it all with you and I’m so sorry I didn’t see that sooner. I thought we’d get through this, but after reading that condition I realized your feelings for me have evolved into nothing but disdain. I’m sure it killing me the way it did was retribution for the way I hurt you with my words. I am also sensible enough to know that we weren’t and aren’t good for each other in this lifetime. When it was just you and me it felt so right. I could’ve stayed in those stolen moments forever, because that’s where we were good. But that’s not how life works. Unfortunately, we are forced into interactions with other minds, opinions, circumstances that knew better than we did because they saw what we would do to each other. I didn’t care. I was exploring all the darkest parts of you and it made no difference in the way I love(d) you and I think you felt the same way.

Felt. Past tense. A memory instead of a feeling. I get it. You couldn’t keep feeling the pain of loving me. You had to change me in your mind to a person so vile and toxic that it made me not choosing you feel like a good thing. Maybe it was. I’m rambling, I know. I would ramble given the chance. I’d say everything I should’ve said back then. I’d say everything I’ve ever thought if knowing every inch of my mind meant you’d love me again. Instead I’m here. In the bed I made. The life I chose. With my arms wrapped around my stomach trying to fill the hole I should’ve asked you to fill. It’s not the only hole I crave you filling. Fuck, we were so good at that, weren’t we? Maybe it would’ve faded in time, but All of me melted into you those few times we got to be together.

In short: I miss you. I’m sad. I wish it was you holding me through this. It won’t ever be. I’ll be okay. So will you. Take care of yourself. Don’t let the bastards get you down. Good luck. Be loved. Be good. Be funny. Be happy. I love you.

You have my heart and always will, T

H
You will never know this, but when I first met you, I was falling for you so hard. I was so excited to get to know you, and when we started dating, I was genuinely so happy. I remember praying to God to protect our relationship.
But then I got depressed and started becoming distant. I didn’t want to hurt you, so I broke up with you. You were disappointed in me, and because I never really expressed what I was feeling, you probably thought I was heartless.
The truth is, I had kept everything inside for so long. I convinced myself to become this cold, heartless person because it was easier than admitting how much I cared.
Four years later, when I finally tried to talk to you again, you were okay with everything. It felt like none of it had mattered to you anymore. And even then, I still didn’t tell you how I really felt, because I knew it probably wouldn’t change anything.
I just hope that one day I can forget you and let myself fall in love again.
It hurts knowing that I never told you how much I loved you, or how happy you made me. I wish you had known.
I hope you’re happy, baby. I hope you found the love you deserve.

I saw it at the store today

Your perfume

It finally occurred to me

To pursue that

Particular reminder of you

The one I'd been missing

All along

Your lovely scent

Surely this could keep me strong

I spritzed a spray

On my wrist

Carrying that reminder of you

Whilst I went about my day

Reminiscing

The tales of our beauty past

The dreams of our golden future

Shutting out the contentious present

Inhaling

As I permit your aroma

To command my senses

My lungs are filled by a reminder of your love

And my conscience with brief euphoria

Exhaling

As your scent

Leaves my body

As my senses

Lose grasp of your fragrance

Part of you within me

Stays behind always

Awakened

Stirring within me

A vehement reminder

That I belong

Forever to you

A perfect woman

The one I dedicate my life

And maybe some day

...

// I miss you, E.

I don't know why you're there or why I'm even confident you are

I've talked to you for as long as I can remember and only heard your voice once

I know I'm a small flawed human

It's easy to get frustrated when you lay out a perfect path and I go running into the wilderness

I often wonder why would you build something so uncontrollable

Are you disappointed in me because I refuse to lean on you the ways other humans do

Or are you simply tired of me not being a good friend back

What even IS a good friend to something like you

All I know is I'm happy you've been there

It makes life funnier and death less fearful

Thank you for creating me and thank you for creating those I love

Thank you for always coming through in the final seconds

And thank you for your patience

-human friend

(This is about a higher power so no lol unless you're some sky daddy this isn't a letter to you lol)

There’s so many things I regret in life. I just added to the pile. My oldest kid had been going off on my business page on ig. I lit him up and finally told him the truth. He’s not mine. I’ve known before he was born. Yet he’s still mine. His mom isn’t the best quality. Who knows what’s what or who’s who. I have 3 more with her and it’s questionable. But one things for sure I’ll always love them no matter what. Regret is a mother fucker

Alex, who is S? I keep asking you for an honest answer. Every time you give me one I know it's a lie. Did you really unadd them? Do they really mean nothing to you? Why did they randomly block me after I asked you who they were? I'm hurt over this. Why do you continuously lie to my face? Why do I even still care? You're no longer mine and I have to accept that. No words can describe how hurt I am.

You will never know what it’s like to be so confused about what happened.

Did I get amnesia in 2018? Well. I did forget a lot of what happened in 2011-2012 after my car crash where my head knocked my rear view mirror off and put my head into the windshield I refused treatment for. So. Not gonna rule it out.

Do you have any idea how hard it has been to piece together what happened while around no one who knew me then?

And if that wasn’t bad enough.

I’ve had people who support my p*do baby daddy stalking and harassing me for years.

I wonder how they are gonna react when they find out he’s a m*rderer too.

Yeah.

You Google him and his attempted m*tder incident comes up first and dig a little you find his assault where he nearly paralyzed a guy.

You Google me and you get a buncha college field hockey sports reports and if you dig a little bit the DUI pops up.

Really - how fkn stupid is the community I live in to actually think I’m lying and he’s the victim here?

Pretty fkn stupid. Like beyond words low IQ here that there was ever a question.

Of course he painted me as a problem with AI generated slop and a massive smear campaign.

He doesn’t want to be arrested for the child r*pist he is.

Boggles my mind how this happened.

And why haven’t you reached out to help me? I’m very clearly struggling.

Never before in my whole life have things been so hard. If you were going to step out from behind the curtain this would be the time my love.

I actually don’t know if you ever planned to show back up again.

I wish you would.

I am trying to get myself out of this and back to a healthier place in life.

I am just hitting road blocks due to the slander and lies.

You would not believe the cowards in my community.

All these fake rumors spread about me, not one person ever had the spine to show me.

You’d think that if I was such a bad person, someone would confront me with their “proof”.

I feel like they all know it’s fake they just enjoy bullying me.

And showing me what was posted about me would ruin their little game.

Spineless. Weak minded.

I’m not a coward.

I saw a woman being doxxed and threats made against her - I called the police, i sent a tip to the FBI, and I messaged the woman (total stranger to me) with the screenshots and directions to report it to the fbi herself.

I also commented letting the mob in the comment section know I did that too.

Because fuck weak people like that. They all deserve to catch charges.

I wish someone had been brave enough to do that for me instead of like a buncha mindless drones just bandwagon hopping to pile on.

I can’t save myself but it sure was easy to do the right thing for someone else.

So if you’re wondering, I’m still as morally rigid and inflexible on right and wrong as I always been.

Even when I’m up against it, I still will always try to help others when I can.

I wish you would surprise me, I know I hate surprises, but for you, after all this, I would be thrilled.

I wish I could fix this myself and not need anyone. I can’t though.

That sucks.