Literature & Writing BA graduate. Currently writing copy and hating it.

I wonder if you ever loved me. If the quiet ways I used you and tied hour long conversations with I’m sorry’s and I love you.

Did you ever wonder how it made me feel when you said it back? It was like finally held me to their chest, and with a collective breath, kept us still in a moment of presence. I felt the world alight with stillness and it made me feel so safe, back then.

I wonder how many times I’m gonna idealize you, in your many forms, and learn that my imagaination will sabatoge all relationships I’ll have.

I had a dream about you. Very similar to dreams I’ve had in the past if other men. You were in my house, full of plants, and we were celebrating something. My partner was there and was not pleased that you were too. I just remember smiling and taking you to the side and apologizing for everything. Using you as an emotional crutch. Idolizing you instead seeing you as a person. Loving you and playing games with you. But that I loved you still. Cause you’re honestly still someone I trust with everything about me but I know now it was one sided to an extent. I guess I’m still idolizing you now. You’re important to me still. I wish I could tell you that. I wish I could tell you I took to heart what you said, that I was meant for something bigger than the small town and the life of wife and family. That I was more than I gave my self credit for and I deserved a chance to do something great. I’m doing it. I hope you’re proud of me.

books-n-quotes:

“And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in.”

— Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

I just want to look at you and feel absolutely nothing. No nostalgia, no happiness, no eagerness to see you happy and well. I want to erase everything from before and look at you and see nothing. You don’t deserve to be in my home country enjoying that life. You don’t deserve to be happy with your new girl. You don’t deserve anything but guilt and regret for all the shit you put me through.

But this is what I prayed for for months. I prayed for your happiness every Sunday. But now I pray for you to leave me alone forever. I don’t ever want to see you ever again. Don’t speak to me. Don’t try to reach out and see how me or my family is doing. I want you to realize how fucked up of a person you are. I want you to realize how you’ve hurt me and made me give up. I wish I could tell everyone what happened, how it ended, and make them see what I see now.

I’m so in love with you. Everyday spent with you feels like we’ve been together for a lifetime. I’ve never felt so secure or assured of someone’s loyalty and respect and love. I always want to post about you and talk about how happy you’ve made me. But I just don’t want to share you with anyone else. I can’t believe you love me as much as you do. I don’t even understand how we got this far for all that I’ve gone through and what I’m still healing from you’ve been nothing but patient and understanding. I’ve never felt so protected, so taken care of, and I just want to tell the whole world that I want to spend everyday for the rest of my life with you. Your birthday is coming up and even though you already know what I’m getting you I’m gonna write this long letter cause I know you need more assurance. I’m sorry I’m so stunted emotionally and scared of every instance of security and true healthy love shown to me. But I’m going to do my best because I never want to lose you.

I wish I could tell your new girl how fucked up you were to me the last year we were together. I wish I could tell her it wasn’t the first time you told me you didn’t love me. I wish I could tell her how forced I felt in doing all the things they probably enjoy together now. I wish that I could tell her how rude you can be. How inconsiderate you can be. And how hurtful you can be. I wish I could tell her about all the times I felt alone and you didn’t care. I wish I could warn her that she’ll be left alone to. I wish I could tell her how you treated me when I tried to seek closure. I wish I could tell her that you’d have snap streaks with other girls, drink with those girls, and left me at home by myself. I wish I could tell her that I learned to be by myself and to grow without someone because you weren’t there. I wish I could tell her how much I fought for you, for us, and how you gave up on us. I wish I could tell her how much I gave of myself, all the money I spent, to make you happy. I don’t love you. I hate you. I will never want to speak or see you again. And I’ve come to terms that I deserve so much more than the 9 years you gave me. Because he has loved me more than you ever did in just 6.

If I had known that I would’ve fallen for you this hard and this quickly I would’ve ran faster.

I’m so thankful for you, you have no idea.

I wonder if you’re happy and are doing everything you’ve ever wanted. I hope life has changed to what you hoped it’d be. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if I stayed, if I just sucked it up a little longer.

But I remember that feeling in my chest, this intense certainty that you did not want me anymore. Not in the way that I wanted, that was like before.

And I think I’m finally mourning the loss of you, of the future we could’ve had together, and how heartbroken I am.

And sometimes I look at old snaps and pictures and wonder where the happiness went. Where did our laughter go. When did we stop being lovers and started being acquaintances or friends.

I loved you with all my heart. And if anyone tells you that just cause I’ve moved on to another relationship with someone who loves me and wants to plan a life with me then their ignorant assholes who can shut the fuck up. Cause they don’t know what it felt like to sleep alone, wondering if there was time spent thinking about you, planning for a future while still enjoying the present. They don’t know what it feels like to love someone so deeply, to give everything you could to them, and feel them slowly slip away, despite all you did to make them happy. To forget yourself and your worth to allow someone to make you feel like if you gave in just once more it’ll be worth it in the end.

To have to break up with the one you love because you knew that it was the right thing to do. Because you were both unhappy and couldn’t find the reason to go on. And to call them weeks later to try and ask to make sense or find reason to try again to be shot down. 9 years gone and everything you thought was your life isn’t anymore.

But then you choose to cry openly. Choose to be you and love you no matter how hard it is to do so. You feel open to the possibility of being and then someone walks into your life and opens up a space in your heart that you thought was broken. Fills it with steady hope and bewilderment of what life can be.

But I miss you sometimes. I miss your voice and laugh. I miss seeing you at home. I failed to see your attempts, despite them being sprinkled in after long weeks of fighting, to make things better. If we could’ve only appreciated each other a little better I think we would’ve made it. If I loved you the way you needed too. If I let you go while keeping you close like you wanted, for me to wait.

I want to text you this week or next, to see if you’d like to talk or meet up. But I’ll let you make that decision.

kiramartinauthor:

simonalkenmayer:

anothersquirrelanotherpeanut:

shit-happens-bitchachos:

maneth985:

theactualcluegirl:

shrewreadings:

beepboop-its-a-robot:

STORY TIME:

I work in a decent sized, local, indie bookstore. It’s a great job 99% of the time and a lot of our customers are pretty neat people. Any who, middle of the day this little old lady comes up. She’s lovably kooky. She effuses how much she loves the store and how she wishes she could spend more time in it but her husband is waiting in the car (OH! I BETTER BUY HIM SOME CHOCOLATE!), she piles a bunch of art supplies on the counter and then stops and tells me how my bangs are beautiful and remind her of the ocean (“Wooooosh” she says, making a wave gesture with her hand)

Ok. I think to myself. Awesomely happy, weird little old ladies are my favorite kind of customer. They’re thrilled about everything and they’re comfortably bananas. I can have a good time with this one. So we chat and it’s nice.

Then this kid, who’s been up my counter a few times to gather his school textbooks, comes up in line behind her (we’re connected to a major university in the city so we have a lot of harried students pass through). She turns around to him and, out of nowhere, demands that he put his textbooks on the counter. He’s confused but she explains that she’s going to buy his textbooks.

He goes sheetrock white. He refuses and adamantly insists that she can’t do that. It’s like, $400 worth of textbooks. She, this tiny old woman, bodily takes them out of her hands, throws them on the counter and turns to me with a intense stare and tells me to put them on her bill. The kid at this point is practically in tears. He’s confused and shocked and grateful. Then she turns to him and says “you need chocolate.” She starts grabbing handfuls of chocolates and putting them in her pile.

He keeps asking her “why are you doing this?” She responds “Do you like Harry Potter?“ and throws a copy of the new Cursed Child on the pile too.

Finally she’s done and I ring her up for a crazy amount of money. She pays and asks me to please give the kid a few bags for his stuff. While I’m bagging up her merchandise the kid hugs her. We’re both telling her how amazing she is and what an awesome thing she’s done. She turns to both of us and says probably one of the most profound, unscripted things I’ve ever had someone say:

“It’s important to be kind. You can’t know all the times that you’ve hurt people in tiny, significant ways. It’s easy to be cruel without meaning to be. There’s nothing you can do about that. But you can choose to be kind. Be kind.”

The kid thanks her again and leaves. I tell her again how awesome she is. She’s staring out the door after him and says to me: “My son is a homeless meth addict. I don’t know what I did. I see that boy and I see the man my son could have been if someone had chosen to be kind to him at just the right time.”

I’ve bagged up all her stuff and at this point am super awkward and feel like I should say something but I don’t know what. Then she turns to me and says: I wish I could have bangs like that but my darn hair is just too curly.“ And leaves.

And that is the story of the best customer I’ve ever had. Be kind to somebody today.

 I didn’t reblog earlier. 

So I am now. 

Be kind. It’s worth the effort.

Wow amazing!

This is beautiful

Wow

This is one I always reblog.

“It’s important to be kind. You can’t know all the times that you’ve hurt people in tiny, significant ways. It’s easy to be cruel without meaning to be. There’s nothing you can do about that. But you can choose to be kind. Be kind.”

books-n-quotes:

“A person learns how to love himself through the simple acts of loving and being loved by someone else.”

— Haruki Murakami, 1Q84