What do I miss?
I miss being called kiddo, your lovely, your dear, sweetheart, darlin, and a myriad of other kindnesses you’ve called me over the years.
I miss being asked in a particular way about my well being, about my children’s well being, whether I’ve eaten, or to tell you about my day.
I miss how excited you used to get when I came online, back when we first talked and still played pogo together. I miss the way hours melt away in what seems like minutes when I’m talking g to you. I miss the fact that even when we don’t see eye to eye, we usually can talk it out. I miss your humour, your wit, your sarcasm and the way you made me laugh and smile.
I miss the word lovely, the ph...
I try to read behind the words you write.
You sound angry at me for something I did wrong...somehow I wronged you, but how isn’t clear.
It almost sounds like I was supposed to do something to change things between us somewhere along the way...moving to close the distance somehow....but every time I’ve ever thought that was what you wanted from me, I’ve felt smacked at, run away from, shut down on...so I don’t think that it’s that you wanted me....it couldn’t be, could it?
Every time you’ve told me over the years about them talking to you about marriage, I’ve felt so lost because I want to hope, but hoping is pointless when the other person doesn’t see you that way.
You’re angry ...
I know you are constantly looking for ways to improve the experience here...so I would like to make a suggestion or two that I’ve felt would be a huge improvement for many of us who enjoy getting their thoughts out here:
1. You like us to write key words, descriptors, categories for our writing, to make it easier to find...why not make the same descriptors available for your stamps, and your papers? If, for instance, I was looking for this lovely paper here...I might put ‘floral’ or ‘rose’ or even ‘love’ as it evokes these feelings when looking at it. A lot of your stamps aren’t things that interest me...but I’m glad they’re there, because as far as I’m concerned, the diversit...
I love you
How can 3 words be so hard to say...more-so, how can they be so hard to accept?
I want you near me, I need you in my world.....I love you....with everything I have.
You are the sun and the moon to me and every star in my universe cries out your name as my head lies restless on the pillow.
I love you,
I love you.
I love you.
You are who I reach for in my sleep, as I hug the pillows tightly to my breast, not wanting to let go.
You are my sleepy little wakings throughout the night. My realisation that you’re not there. You are my smiles when I’m having a bad day, my ear to bend when I need to vent....about everyone and everything....
You wonder why I put you on a pedestal.
You seem to put yourself there and punish me for how I see you.
You are so different in my eyes. The things that attract me are far deeper than the superficial you that shows.
You make me feel safe.
You make me feel hope.
You make me feel protected and loved.
But you never say those words...not love.
You tell me I cannot love what isn’t right in front of me...yet my heart is filled to spilling.
I believe in what I feel.
Sometimes distance has nothing to do with the physical space between two people, but instead it has to do with the emotional or mental space between them.
If a person is always speaking over you, always in your space, mentally, and sometimes physically...you can feel suffocated, intruded upon. If they never let you have your own independent thoughts,or discount your thoughts, even in your own career, you can feel impeded, and grow to resent them over time.
Likewise, a person an arms length away can make that distance feel like miles or even light years away, when their focus is never on you, and they always seem lost in something else.
These can be the same person...and there is often n...
What could you possibly offer me that I couldn’t get from anyone else?
It’s basically what you asked me tonight...
The answer is, of course, nothing.
I’ve nothing to offer of value, I myself am nothing of value, to anyone, anywhere.
I am a mother, yet they are outgrowing the need for the attentions of a mother.
I am a daughter, but I’ve never been as important as my siblings, their friends, their hobbies, their time.
I’ve been a wife, but I wasn’t more important than his anger, though I couldn’t see what I’d done to cause it. Perhaps the guilt he carried from his own affairs.
I’ve been a girlfriend, because I was afraid to try the wife thing again...the anger and abuse was still there...
They were overstretched...and
A little tattered, a little torn.
Only connecting, never binding.
A gentle nudge-if you need reminding.
And now you’ve razed them...
As if they somehow threatened you.
Sat to the side,
because of a break or two
Frequently passed over
Because the others are new
Cannot stand tall
Can’t hold their wick upright
Because of this...
No one bothers to light.
Tossed in the bin
Or another use found
The light from another
Is never around.
Meant to be lit
To burn and share light
We should all have the chance
To glow, ever bright.
Not being loved...hurts. You wonder what about you is unlovable. You wonder what you need to change, and how. You wonder why some of the vilest people on the planet can find love, and no one seems to care for you.
Being hated, detested is a different matter altogether, you pull yourself apart over and over, you try to put your pieces back differently and see if you can fix whatever is wrong with you, you try hard to understand what about you is broken. You pray, you try not to be angry, and you try to move on.
Its hard to understand how someone who shared with you, trusted you, and even asked your help and guidance...could hate you so much.
Feeling broken today, can’t even explain what I feel...
I've forgiven you.
Again and again, I will.
Not because you're sorry.
Not because you care.
You matter to me,
Always it seems, you have
I'm not sure that I do
Not to you, anyway
You inspired my hope.
You hurt me, intensely.
And yet, I love you still.
Even through the pain.
You were a character, a work of fiction, that I made the mistake of thinking I was in love with.
It wasn't until your last plot twist that things began to unravel, and I could begin to see that you truly don't exist...not in the fashion that you'd have me believe.
Was I getting too close? Was it because I was about to expose you anyway for a fraud? Did you have to make stories up as an escape so that you weren't found out?
I see your tinfoil shining from underneath that exterior you convinced me was armour.
The funny thing is, your elaborate ruse broke me...and when I was truly very hurt, you had no care or concern for me. So for now, though you're found out...I'm going to play the game and...
We live in a world where it's more acceptable to go with the flow than it is to stand out in any way.
People would rather see you settle with someone you can tolerate than to see you with someone who makes every aspect of your life happier.
I love a man, I know beyond the smallest shadow of a doubt that I've loved him since the very first conversation we shared, I know that if the world were to take him tomorrow, the way he makes me feel will be with me until the day I die.
It's not one aspect about him that made me fall in love with him, it was a hundred tiny details, nuances, and a connection between the edges of our souls that I cannot put into words.
He's my first and last thoughts...
She walks in silence.
Everything she does, she does for you. She'd give you her last breath if you needed it, yet to you she's all but invisible.
She's learned to refrain from saying that she loves you, yet her every breath, her every action, her very existence screams it every moment she's awake.
You don't see her, you perhaps never will. Yet you are all she sees, her eyes and heart never leave you. She embodies love in all she does, her heart is in your possession and you don't cradle it like the fragile thing that it is. Perhaps you think it not so fragile because of the life it has lived.
Today, she will do all she can to assure herself of your well-being, tomorrow she will do the sam...
I wasn't raised to be particularly feminine. I was raised to have a power struggle with men, I've been in 4 abusive relationships, all of which I probably somewhat was to blame. I butt heads a lot.
I'm 42 years old, unhappy with where I am in life, and trying to find who I am beneath the surface of who I was raised to be.
I am not a feminist. I don't believe in the feminist agenda. I feel like feminism teaches us to hate men, to belittle them, to be in a power struggle with them. It almost emasculates the men around us, then we wonder why it is that they don't act like real men.
The man I'm in love with, is a man in every sense of the word. He is the first man I've ever felt any true respe...
I am me...I do not apologize for being me, however I find I apologize all the time for my me-ness.
I believe in true love, the kind that lasts forever. I believe in soul connections with your 'people' and I firmly believe that no distance, no circumstance life can offer, not even death...can sever those connections.
Most see me as intelligent, or at least they express so...but honestly if anyone remembers me a hundred years from now, I'd rather them know me as someone who still knew the wonders of God at 100 that she knew at 5. The world never ceases to amaze and enthrall me. There's always something to be discovered, to be learned, to explore...the same words can be read a hundred differe...
Dear Drew ,
How to wish a happy birthday to someone you don't intrinsically know, yet who seems to understand the heart and need of so many.
Many of us need the outlet provided by this simple app, it's like having the pen pals many of us had as children, minus the need for airmail postage.
Many a night is spent using this as an outlet for feelings I need to get off of my chest, but don't want to put in front of the person who causes them.
We are thankful that you exist. Happy happy birthday, and many joyous returns!
All the best!
It's been 3 months, 5 days...and a number of hours since we last spoke.
I feel you, though you're never there. Always absent, yet always very present...in a big way.
I learn to curtail my 'selfish' prayers, and only recite my Orthodox prayers, trying never to ask too much of God or push against his will...yet every heartbeat is a silent, yet very loud prayer, each beat loudly saying your name. Charlie...charlie...charlie, half hoping, half pleading...completely lost without you.
The things I love about you, your humour, your strength, your conviction, I worry I may never see again.
You trusted me, with intimate things of your life that I would not expect one to share with anyone they were ...
It's bedtime for me..:another day without you.
I wonder if you think I should have given up looking by now or what your expectations of me are. I don't give up easily,..but the. I don't think I've ever felt the way you make me when we talk.
I want to know intimacy with you....the whispered conversations and too loud giggles at 3 am, hugs that I hope go on forever. Shopping together, cooking together, staring at the stars, or watching the sunset.
I don't want to wait forever, but I'll wait as long as it takes you to see me standing here.
Love you always,
Ever known something almost your entire life, only to find that you weren't at all familiar?
Like living in a home with someone and finding they weren't who you believed them to be at all?
Perhaps I seem a bit melodramatic...however, not really.
I've attended church since I was a child, of my own accord...always. I was baptized when I was nearly 12, also of my own accord. I attended first a small church of Christ, then, when my family moved out of that small town, and there was no longer a church I could walk to, I attended a Christian church...non denominational.
As I grew, I believed myself to have an adequate relationship with God, although, in truthfulness, it waxed and waned much like ...
There isn't a minute of the day that I'm awake that I do not think about you. You are my highs and my lows all day.
Some of my thoughts relax me, reading things you've said, remembering things you've said long ago. You are a force in my life like no other. You are the person everyone else needs to know to understand me...without you, I'm a locked safe full of treasures that I'm just not sure anyone else will ever have the key to.
It's been 2 months without you, and in all fairness I know that you had travels, I also know a lot of what you have going on...I try to be patient and keep these things at the back of my head, I try not to panic. Part of me though...it panics. It's afraid I've said t...
Something about my words...hit a nerve.
You've told me I've made accusations...that I haven't.
You've shut me out because you say Your career would be compromised if you did not....how so?
Is there truth to the accusations I didn't make...if not, how would it hurt to talk this out or try to see what I really meant?
Do you know the words you said I said...the accusations you said I made...we're not even alluded to in my side of the conversation...nor had they crossed my mind.
I'm thinking awfully hard about them now though.
It's time to turn in for the night, but my mind is still spinning, think over events of the last 4 days.
We've known one another for more than 9 years now, he knows my heart and my soul well enough to tell me the thoughts I won't say, as well as understanding the ones I do, and holding on to the details of them.
The past 5 days have been a whirlwind of emotions, new conversations that had never even been attempted before, and then, part of me got a little off kilter and said something askew....and now it's all messed up.
He confuses me, flirting with me one moment yet his words make me feel inadequate, insecure. He teases and tells me he sees things I don't say...and he's right, my words do...
When we're small, we learn slowly, over time, about object permanence. How, though we're away from home, it's still there, waiting when we come home...barring any unforeseen circumstances.
Life teaches us that this isn't always so in people. Parents or grandparents pass away, family members move away, relationships and marriages fail. It's gotten to be the norm, so to speak, in day to day life.
I have abandonment issues...they go way back: my dad was absent from my life before I was ever born, and even when he was back in my life at 36...it was only when it was convenient for him, now he's passed away, and though I miss the thought of him...I can't say I truly knew him enough to justify missi...
It's been a bad few days for me, so after having taken a break from feeling a need to write on here, I will be writing on here for a while, to keep my sanity as well as keeping my promise not to write someone a while. I need somewhere to get my feelings out, and I welcome any feedback you choose to give.
Sorry in advance, as I know there will be a lot of raw feelings in what I do write. Hope I don't lose pen pals because I make anyone uncomfortable.
It's bedtime my love, I know not where you are, or why. I know only that you've been gone a little while longer than I'd anticipated.
I can't describe the emptiness that exists without you. I can only say that it's vast and seems insurmountable at times. I try not to sulk or feel sad, but mostly I fail at both.
I read our old conversations to keep me company during the absence. I'm thankful for you and all you add to my life.
I love you, I'd better get some sleep.
I step across the threshold into the comfortably lived in abode at the end of the day, and he is there, his smile, his warmth, his tender way of existing in my world.
It doesn't matter that the baby has spilled her milk on the hardwood floor or that things are slightly askew everywhere you look, it's the fact that they are there that makes this place home to me.
4 walls make a room, and several rooms make a house, but a house can never really be a home without the reassuring feeling that comes with ones return to such a place.
I believe there are people with beautiful houses they return to every day, who've never really had a home in their life...I also believe there are 'homeless...
How do souls connect to one another, never having met in the flesh, only seemingly idle conversation...one would think this to be a quite superficial connection, if indeed it is to be considered a connection at all.
Why then, pray tell me, does my soul feel superglued to his, with threat of permanent and deep damage at the idea of him disappearing? Why am I painfully aware when another day passes without him in it? Why are the tears, the aches, the longing all so very very real?
Am I foolish? Still a child in many ways? Or do you think of me? do you see anything at all in me?
Feeling lost, and so alone tonight.