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Dear You [11 Apr 2011|02:46pm]

[ mood | Fuck you ]

Dear Sir,

I write to you too often. You never write me back. I have told you several times how badly I feel because of this... and yet...

you still never write me.

I am attempting to give up on you. But it is harder than I thought. I feel as though I should let you know.. but some how I don't think you would much care.

I feel like an idiot for missing you.

- a panic stricken girl you used to know.

28 comments|post comment

The Boyfriend Application [28 Mar 2011|11:49pm]

It’s that time of the year again. No, not the boyfriend searching one, you presumptuous fiend! No, it’s exam time for us lovely university students. While this does entail a lugubrious amount of studying, it also means a hell of a lot of procrastinating. When I procrastinate, I surf my trusty Facebook. And while stalking some of my friends, I came across Chelsea Hagan’s boyfriend application. So here’s my go at her amazing idea:

I’ve definitely finished that terrible phase that requires every teenage girl to only drool over celebrities and to compare these celebrities with real people. Fear not, future boyfriend: in my eyes, only extremely rarely will you be compared with the likes of Andrew Garfield or Prince Will (and I promise that I will try to keep these comparisons for the positive). I’ve gone on dates, broken hearts, fallen for the impossible, and have always been too afraid to settle. So, if I haven’t frightened you yet, future boyfriend, please continue reading and you too may enjoy a relationship filled with fishy faces, insecurities, books, and many other absurdities. Oh, and lots of spicy food too.

Inspiringly Smart: I need you to talk nerdy to me. I promise you I will be just as geeky. So, when I’m going off about baroque interior design or international relations theory, I need you to do more than barely keep your eyes open. I want you to challenge me, but not push me over the edge. Hence the “inspiring” part.

Ambitious: While it’s all well and good that you’re in pre-med, pre-law, or whatever else tickles your fancy, I need you to do something with that fancy education and those intellectual pretentions. I don’t care what it is you do, so long as you are always striving to improve yourself. But, while I understand that your career is important, so is mine. And more importantly, while I understand our careers are important, know that I will be just as important as your job, and you will be as important to me as my job. So, there will never be an excuse for you to forget our anniversary. Ever.

Somewhat Tall: This means that, while I have tried time and time again to reason that I could love a guy shorter than me, I just don’t think my shallowness would allow that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not very shallow, but we all have weak points, right? If it’s any consolation I’m 165 cm, and with heels I aim for 170. So, that shouldn’t be too hard. As long as I’m not taller than you in heels, we’ve got a deal.

Funny: This may be a deal maker. If you are not funny, I don’t think we can be together. I need you to naturally make me laugh ‘till I cry. I want your humour to be witty, occasionally dry, and always good-natured. Whether it be painting your face on Halloween, or wearing a “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” t-shirt on Canada Day, you’ve got to make me bubble with giggles. I’ll try to do the same, though my humour is more a result of my occasional absent-mindedness. As in, I will push on pull doors. Always.

Confident: Everyone has their bad days, but I need you to always be confident in what you do. And it has to be legit confidence that oozes charm. Don’t be obnoxious, but always know what you’re doing. There will be a day where my faucet is leaky (no innuendo intended), and I will need you to fix it. When I watch scary movies, you have to be my beacon of strength. No shivering, yelps of fear or closing of the eyes allowed.

Thrilling Conversationalist: Yes, Chelsea, I took this one from you. But in all honesty, this relationship needs to be even on both sides. I do not want to drag words out from your mouth. I don’t mind us being quiet together, but we have to talk. About everything. I don’t care if you want to talk about the zit on your face, China’s democratic future, the meaning of life, or what shoes you’re going to wear today. I just need us to be able to talk. If you even think about closing yourself off from me, I will shut the door on you before I even get the chance to hear an explanation. I want us to enjoy our conversations, however silly or heated they can get. I want them to be so amazing that we’ll turn the TV down just to keep talking. Except when Antiques Roadshow is on. That’s a big no-no.

Well-Dressed: Please note that well dressed will never entail baggy jeans that sit below your bum, or any ripped articles of clothing. Or stains on clothing. I suppose this comes with confidence and ambition, but I believe clothing is an expression of who you are. I’m not asking you to dress like a Burberry model, but you have to be classy and sharp. And sure, you may not be perfectly dressed at first, but by this token, you must be totally open and willing to let me dress you, or at least educate you in the world of fashion.

Desirous of Children: Yet another stolen from Chelsea. I don’t do short-term relationships, if you haven’t gotten that note yet. So, if you aren’t interested at any point in being a father, (read: excellent, supportive father) please do not bother sending in an application. I don’t want children within the next 3 years or anything. But, after law school, after I’m married, and preferably before I’m 30, I’d like to pop one or two out. I want our children to be more than just tokens of our consummation or trophies. I want them to be deeply loved and cared for. And note that with children, comes diaper duty. And potty training.

Healthy: Call it social Darwinism, but I prefer that you not be morbidly obese. I also don’t want you to be a lanky toothpick either. I want you to be strong enough that when I have a nightmare, or see a centipede walk across the kitchen floor, your strong arms will quickly wrap around me. I need to feel protected. So when I say healthy, I ask that you be both physically and emotionally healthy. You don’t need to frequent the gym 5 times a week, but if we went cycling together, canoeing, or just any sort of physical activity about once a week I’d be a happy camper. If we’re in it together, and you’re my main investment, I’m going to work to make you as healthy as possible, and vice versa. Yes, that means not eating fast food often.

Spiritual: Read: this does not mean religious. I’m putting it out there that I am agnostic, and that I hail from Orthodox backgrounds. I am open to religion, whichever you may belong to, so long as we can loosely celebrate yours and mine, and never force anything upon anyone, especially our child(ren).
Chiavlrous: It ain’t dead boys, at least not for me. Now I don’t need you to come out on a white stallion and your finest armour. I need you though, to open doors for me. To give me your jacket when I get cold. To know your manners. Well. It’s something I want to teach our children, because I see etiquette and chivalry as signs of respect. If I’m going to treat you well, I sure as hell want to be treated like a Queen.

British Accents, Jewish ancestry, deep thirst for travel, insane love for thai food, sincere appreciation for history, literature and art, general love for British comedy.

“Well, there you have it. A brief list of the humble requirements for the future love of my life. It’s not much, trust me. I’m easygoing and open to change (except for the requirements).
And even if I weren’t, I am worth it. I am incredibly interesting, always right, unbelievably beautiful, and exceptionally hilarious. These few requests are mere motes of dust in comparison to the god-like pleasure of spending your time with me.”

I accept applications in the form of .doc, .docx, .pdf, .psd (yeah, be creative! Show you possess those requirements!), and .rtf . Anything else will not be tolerated because I don’t have a Mac, don’t really know or want to know how to use one. Remember, I am the techy for now, but I want you to be just a teensy bit techier than me. Not a lot. Not like I play video games 24/7 and all I want to do is rip apart computers for parts. Just a bit techier than me. Just a bit.

Best of luck!

Only those that are eligible for an interview will be contacted. I appreciate all your efforts.
22 comments|post comment

[28 Jan 2011|01:56pm]
dear self,

why are you such a whore?

love, me
34 comments|post comment

[18 Jan 2011|09:03pm]
dear my long lost could have been life,

please come visit again soon.


the girl who should have been
25 comments|post comment

[12 Jan 2011|10:07pm]
[ mood | sad ]

Dear douche-who-really-needs-to-get-a-grip,

I hate you. How could you do everything that you did to me? How? I took you in, I let you live with me. I took care of you when you were sick. I worked for us while you were "laid off" for over a year. Whatever we did, was because of me. And yet I didn't care. I didn't mind taking care of you. You were my everything and I thought I was yours. I put up with the dumb ex girlfriends who blew up your phone. I put up with your totally legally insane mother who talked to me like I was trash instead of being greatful that someone in this world was helping you, her own son, out with your life. But I bit my tongue every time and just let things go. But what about when I needed help? What about when I needed to be cared for and about and I needed to feel loved???? How did you treat me??? YOU BROKE UP WITH ME THE DAY THAT MY GRANDMOTHER PASSED AWAY TO GO OUT, BUY AN ENGAGEMENT RING, AND PROPOSE TO ONE OF THOSE SKANK EXES OF YOURS. WHY ???????????????????????? Why in the world would you randomly one day get up and say .. oh, I'm going to RUIN EVERYTHING that I have with this amazing girl, to get engaged to a scumbag that I don't even talk to ??? And then the next day, was Christmas.

14 comments|post comment

[12 Jan 2011|10:07pm]
[ mood | sad ]

Dear douche-who-really-needs-to-get-a-grip,

I hate you. How could you do everything that you did to me? How? I took you in, I let you live with me. I took care of you when you were sick. I worked for us while you were "laid off" for over a year. Whatever we did, was because of me. And yet I didn't care. I didn't mind taking care of you. You were my everything and I thought I was yours. I put up with the dumb ex girlfriends who blew up your phone. I put up with your totally legally insane mother who talked to me like I was trash instead of being greatful that someone in this world was helping you, her own son, out with your life. But I bit my tongue every time and just let things go. But what about when I needed help? What about when I needed to be cared for and about and I needed to feel loved???? How did you treat me??? YOU BROKE UP WITH ME THE DAY THAT MY GRANDMOTHER PASSED AWAY TO GO OUT, BUY AN ENGAGEMENT RING, AND PROPOSE TO ONE OF THOSE SKANK EXES OF YOURS. WHY ???????????????????????? Why in the world would you randomly one day get up and say .. oh, I'm going to RUIN EVERYTHING that I have with this amazing girl, to get engaged to a scumbag that I don't even talk to ??? And then the next day, was Christmas.

20 comments|post comment

How do I survive the crush of the coming rejection? [04 Jan 2011|10:44pm]
Dear Wife,

I love you, and have loved you without reservation for 25 years. We have had our joys, our sadness and our issues to address. The last couple of years have not been easy.

But I have been resolute about making "us" work; I continue to be willing to work on us, which I admit in most cases means "me." I'm not perfect, and my goal is to meet your expectations.

I find again that you have moved into the "its not going to work" mode. I'm not changing enough, not doing enough. I'm a failure, I get that. But where's the middle ground? Where's the part where we discuss issues before we start planning to leave? I missed that part.

In fact, that part wasn't there. You've been holding in anger and apparently a lot of disappointment, and a "final straw" unleashed its fury. I never saw it coming.

You slept last night on the couch, and you're there again. The kids aren't sure what to make of it. I expect they'll find out soon enough that you're moving, and they can come with you or stay with me.

Why does it have to come to this?

With all my heart, I know -- I KNOW -- that we are better together, and we are stronger as a couple and a family. How will leaving improve things?

So now I'm left wondering as I write: Will your heart soften enough to consider talking about moving forward? What will life look like on my own?

I know time will tell. I have so much hurt, so many tears ... even anger inside. I don't understand, and that's probably one of the problems you face -- my inability to see what's wrong.

We've come to this point several times in the past, but this is different; that difference scares me. How do I find who I am when I lose my family? What is left to live for?

I don't know, I just don't know.

Let's talk about it ... please?

Until then, I remain on the sidelines of life as --

The Discarded
22 comments|post comment

[24 Dec 2010|05:20am]

I wasnt supposed to fall for you but I did. And I know that you dont feel that way back. And it sucks.

I dont know where you came from, or what I did to deserve meeting you, but I'm glad it happened. I know I wasnt supposed to, but I fell in love with you a long time ago. And now, it hurts that I dont see you. You tell me things that no one else has ever said to me, but you have her. And thats the problem.

You love her with all your heart, I know that, but you tell me that we have something special. That I am your "lover". I dont want that.... I feel horrible sometimes because of her. I dont want to be the cause of a major fuck up.. Shes within decent travel time to you.. she compliments you immensley with her looks, and her style.. (lets face it... I wouldnt fit in with your friends and the clubs you go to). She drinks, and probably gives you back rubs.

I live 2 hours away. I see you on average once every 3-4 months. We have sex and I leave.... I have nothing to offer you at all, but sex and my heart. You made it clear to me a year ago that you didnt want it.. But its yours.. and you know that when it all comes down, I belong to you..... But I will never be able to compete for you because of her..


You keep me grounded... When I talk to you everything in my world is perfect... when I see you, all of the problems fade away, and its just us. Its to the point that I dont care what we do or where we are, as long as I can be touching you in some small way, everything feels fine. When we are together, I have no urge to get high, or smoke a cigarette. No urge to over eat... nothing. I just want to be normal, and I am with you. You make me feel like I need to strive to be a better person,and I've been striving for it.. You calm me when I am upset, even if its just on the phone. When you hold me, or hug me, I feel a warmth that I never want to let go of.
I just still keep wondering who sent you to be in my life...

I am sad when you get sad.. I'm super happy when you are happy... I can never get enough of you.. When I have to leave, I get upset because I know I wont see you for a while... I almost always have to keep myself from crying infront of you... I dont want to look foolish, or like a big baby.. You dont understand the anxiety I get when I need to leave... Its like you are my edward... I know thats a weird thing to say but... thats what it is like to me. When I'm not with you, I feel a hole in my chest... when I am with you, its gone, but it always comes back with an encore appearance...

I need to know that one day you will feel the same.. but I am unsure if that day will ever come.

I wish I could really tell you this... but I could never do it to us. We have such a dysfunctional yet great relationship the way it is...
58 comments|post comment

The Ten O'Clock Spot. [10 Dec 2010|08:50pm]

Dear Eric,

"If you listen closely, you can hear life."

It had been a long day. It seemed to her that her entire day at this point revolved around how quickly she could get home. How quickly she could press through the wind whipping the flesh off her face and stripping her complexion to an abrasive red. When the little bell on her watch rang, she leapt out of her seat, bundled herself up and dashed toward the car.

She didn't hear the radio, didn't pay attention to anything currently going on. All that was in her mind was a routine she followed day in, and day out. Parking the car neatly in the garage so that it gave her enough space to crawl out. Clicking the button twice on her keypad so that she made sure that the car was locked (in truth, she always thought it sounded more musical that way, too).

The sound of doors opening, of shoes clanking up the cold metal stairs. Stop. Turning onto a landing that led to another flight of stairs. More clanking. Another door.

"Keys. Where are my keys? Shit...."

It didn't matter how large or small her purse was, she could never find her keys. The closer she got to home, the more she caught up with the time she was envisioning. Her hands would clasp the keychain of a now non-existant radio station that had been scratched over time and she would finally be transported into the present. Now that her rustling and rummaging had stopped, she pushed the key into the lock with a determined expression on her face.

It was all leading up to this. The drop.

The drop where once the door was swung open, she could let go of everything. Once the door was closed, the world didn't matter anymore. She kicked off her shoes, letting them land wherever they may. Her bag spilt across the tiled floor, much to what would have been her mother's dismay. With windows wide open, she stripped herself slowly with each step she took.

Click. She always did love the sound that switches made. It wasn't as if she was even in the room anymore. An orchestra was performing Adage to Rest in her honour. Quietly, it began with towels dropping neatly folded onto the toilet seat. Then, suddenly, a clap of power came from the opening and closing of the cabinet where she pulled out her hair dryer and plopped it on the counter.

The sticky noises that came from her barefeet padding across the cold tiles in search of her foot towel, meant the chorus was drawing nearer. Now, the vent was on. Drum roll.

The first step into the hollow tub was never a sure one, and it made a rubbing echo-y noise. Building momentum, the curtain was pulled and it squeaked and jolted as every ring marched farther to the opposite end of the bar. Bend.

Her fingers traced the sharpied-in sign.

All showers have their quirks, one might even go so far as to call them human in that respect. Some never became hot enough, some pulsed too harshly. Some were simply not positioned in a way that covered one's body entirely. This shower, was not without its problems. Yes, it did become hot enough. But after pulling (with some force) the knob out to start the shower, and the dial turned over to the H section, there was one spot - the ten o'clock spot that became cold. As if disobeying every natural law she could think of, the shower in that one section became colder, and remained colder than the temperature it should have been. The first day moving into the appartment, Eric had noticed it too. Back then, they would make fun of it, jump in the shower together and just try to figure out how to fix it. Obviously, more romantic fun would ensue, but sometimes, the two, like silly children would just sit in the shower (sometimes fully clothed) and let the water pour on them as they tried to understand the zaniness of their shower.

Eventually, after a month of moving in, before throwing out the sharpie that they had used to mark all their cardboard boxes, he drew a thick line beginning at the knob, and all the way out to the end of the silver circle surrounding the knob of the shower. On the tiles, he wrote the number 10, because it looked like, if the face of the shower dial were a clock, that would be where the number 10 would sit.

Naked and small, she didn't turn on the shower. She sat, cross-legged, letting her thighs numb. She traced the sharpie sign over and over again. In her mind, she heard his briefcase being opened and closed quickly before it was rested for the day by his desk. She heard the melody of phone buttons beeping while he checked their voicemail. The TV being turned on, but only quietly, so he could hear when her shower was done, so that he too, could get ready to relax himself after a long day's work.

Still sat on the tub floor, she grabbed the knob and pushed it straight to the spot. Before, it had always been a place to avoid, but today, she would bathe herself in it. What made the 10:00 spot even more discomforting was that up until that point, her body was getting used to warmer, and warmer temperatures. And all of a sudden, it became sharply cold.


The water hit the top of her head with a stronger force than what it felt like if she were standing. Cascading over her, her hair drooped over her forehead like a thick, blank wall that protected her from the harsh temperature coming over her. In this cold water, it was okay to feel vulnerable and fragile, because in her mind she could easily excuse it and blame it on the temperature of the water.


She whispered his name softly between the drops of water that fell along the edges of her face, where her hair was not covering her. Salt mixed with ice and soap she tried her best to clean herself. Wash away the pain.

Choking with cold, she thought of her life in the way of the ten o'clock spot. Eric had come into her life four years ago. Slowly, their friendship blossomed, and heat grew. Two years ago they married. Life was getting even more pleasurable. Then, out of the blue, frigid waters overcame the burgeoning flame.

They sell things with life time warantees. Appliances, insurance, sharpies. Some things are permanent. And then there are some things you just don't change.

She pushed the knob closed, with her eyes closed, and pulled her hair back. Kissing the 10:00 spot tenderly goodbye, she crawled out of the bath tub, slowly inching toward her towel.

She dried herself off, and put on her pyjamas, and headed toward the kitchen to start making dinner. Friends would be coming around to play cards and watch TV with her (although she knew they were there only to make sure she was okay). She gathered the black clothes that trailed from the front door to the bathroom, and it looked like no one had ever been in the home.

Like before the cardboard boxes had been grudgingly lifted up two flights of stairs to the place. Before the sharpie pen even existed.

There are times when there is no choice but to move on, despite how tightly one may cling to the past. For it feels like there is nothing more permanet than naked memories and funny showers. But, as cooking a bad meal will often tell you, its what you change that makes it good.

Her doorbell rang, and she heard her voice this time over his, "if you listen closely, you can hear life".

Your wife who is slowly adjusting to your sudden death
32 comments|post comment

[08 Nov 2010|01:06am]

Dear Jason,

I wrote a letter to you a little while back. Things have changed now. I finally left you. Since then you've been deployed. I think the fact that you are in Iraq has helped me get over you more. I cannot call or text you. You still write me messages online. You still break my heart. Every time I think about you it hurts. I could not stay with you and let you continue to hurt me. But what am I doing to myself now? I love you but I HATE you. You ruined everything. I thank God I didnt marry you.

Even though sometimes I wish you would suffer for what you did, I pray for your safe return home from Iraq.

I never break my promises (like you do) so I guess all I have to say is, I'll always be here for you.

61 comments|post comment

[07 Nov 2010|09:34am]

[ mood | crushed ]
[ music | Ocean Avenue - Yellowcard ]

Dear you..
I woke up broken hearted today because I dreamed of you again. I was so sure it was real.
I miss you so much more than I could show. Please be forgiving of the things i have done since you went away.
I will love you always.

20 comments|post comment

Again? you got to be kidding... [28 Aug 2010|11:17am]
[ mood | confused ]

Where is the line with you? *Bjork

Dear Charlene:

Again? I ask the question. Where is the line with you? Yesterday you told me all the nasty things I never want to hear, starting the same argument that drove us apart (and does every time). One day you tell my friend how much you love me, how you love the direction of my nose and you love how my hair grows, the very next day there you are complaining about money and how me not working is hindering you from your responsibilities, how my volunteering with The Steel Yard is not "paying me," and then say I got two weeks to find a job. Where is the line with you?

Read more... )There is such a thing as "too late," when you draw the line at the edge and you push too far, it’s too late!

Someone who really cares, Mystro

20 comments|post comment

[21 Aug 2010|03:55am]
[ mood | content ]

Dear Ex-girlfriend:

Where to begin, like a novel you open up to the center and start reading and half way across the page your eyes wander and your brain does loop while trying to comprehend. As if the story being told could surprise or disgust you at the same time. The feeling of knowing that you missed something or everything and it is impossible to go back through and just thumb through what you missed to skip ahead when you loose interest. Your hard-covered-solid-bind makes things real hard to hold you close without getting a sharp corner shoved into my ribs. My soft-paperback-easygoing ways are too fragile and whimsical for you to tighten your stern grip to my ever flowing pages of peace and what-ever-ness. You would rather rip all of my pages out and leave me to collect dust in your library of lost hope and dreams, where the photo albums of your other ex’s stand dormant never to see the light of day or their reflection in your eyes. What happen to them and those stories?

Read more... )

from: the last man you ever loved!

30 comments|post comment

[09 Aug 2010|09:48pm]
[ mood | thankful ]
[ music | At or with me* Jack Jonshon ]

Dear GOD:

Thank you for this new oppritunity to make my name known. I was so tired of being reffered to as "that guy, you know him right?" This project will set me up for a rollercoaster ride of good feelings and confidence. Finally I can say to Charly "now you know what I mean when I say I am setting out to do something and I am not comming back until it is done!" She knows as well as you and I that the universe dosen't just crap on you for no reason, unless you have done nothing in life to help your fellow wo/man or further you expirences. Please let Charly know that as much as I love her she just so happens to be the obstacle that is, not only in my way, but part of what is keeping my character in line (even a clam puts up with annoying sand to make pearls). Because of YOU, I am not afarid of telling her "listen, if you are not going to do anything with your life, then neither am I."

Your creation, Mystro

29 comments|post comment

[18 Jul 2010|10:59pm]

Dear Andrew,
At one point in time, I would've said if you're not my boyfriend I don't want you in my life.....now I've realized how amazing it would be to just have my best friend back.....I miss the laughs....the jokes....the smiles....sometimes I feel like crying because I know we've lost that.....permanently....there's no going back to where we once were. I hope she's worth it. I don't know why you had to choose in the first place. And the one thing you don't know is......with every single day that passes....I'm finally moving on.... after 5-6 years.....and there will come a day where I won't take you back....not even as a friend....i hope you've prepared yourself for that!

16 comments|post comment

[13 Jul 2010|10:45am]

dear baby..

it started right after my best friend got fired. weird place to start i know.. but after she left, her obsession w. timmy became my obsession. at first it was just a joke.. "heyy timmy.. i like yr hot tan.." ha "hey timmyyy.. i liked watching you get raped on grill today ;)" then the birds began to chirp nd it was brought to my attention that timmy wasn't joking anymore. he's cute. he's timmy so of course he's sexy. nd yr not too nice anymore.. so dear baby.. smarten the fuck up. cuz timmy's getting too close.

love you ..
78 comments|post comment

To love. [02 May 2010|12:22pm]

Dear James,

5 years I waited for you to realize that we'd be something together. In high school, I realized that I didn't stand a chance against your complete indifference to members of the opposite race, so I knew I would have to wait it out, and I was happy to do so. Yes, I did see other people, but the truth of the matter is, I was just passing time until I could get to you.

You have always been special to me. You always will be. For some reason, way back then, I knew we had to have a chance, I knew we'd have to be together, even if just for a short time. But since you nervously reached out to hold my hand that first time, I knew that just a short time would never be enough for me. You have to be mine for always.

I love you in a way that is so unselfish that it hurts me. I want to be with you no matter the cost. I will forgo my own dreams if it means fulfilling our dreams. You don't know this and you may never know this, but you are it for me. I have finally come to a point where I don't want anyone else, where I'm not constantly searching for the next man. You are all I want.

You hurt me in so many small ways and you never even know that you do because I don't want to distress you by telling you that I'm hurting. Sometimes, I wonder if you care nearly as much as I do. I realize that you haven't dealt with the years of longing like I have, so I imagine I don't mean nearly as much to you as you do to me. That's okay, I just want you to feel something for me. In time, it will grow.

However, I feel as if you're pulling away from me. And it hurts so badly. If you must go, I won't fight it. But I will cry as I have never cried before, and I'll react to it in unhealthy ways. If you leave, please do so gently. Just know, part of me will be with you where ever you go.

23 comments|post comment

[03 Apr 2010|10:46pm]

Dear Robby,

I leave tomorrow for West Virginia. And although i'm not even a minor part in your life, i just wanted to let you know how i feel about you. I really, really like you, and i really care about you. More than any of those other 'hoes' ever could. I know i was probably just a chick that gave you rides everywhere and who gave you money so we could smoke, but you, you were a part of me.
At first i didn't let myself even think about liking you. and then you would do something nice for me which got me wondering. Once i started thinking about it, it was downhill from there. When we were talking about how you never give anyone money, ever, and then you gave me money so i would have enough gas, that really made me happy. it made me feel like i was different than all those other girls you use for money and sex and places to sleep at. but am i really? am i actually different than all those girls, or am i one of them?
i've known you since 8th grade, and we even 'dated' in jr high for a little while. you were there when i went 'crazy', you were there when i smoked weed for the first time. you were there after everyone believed i was insane, and you're there for me now. or is it the other way around, and i'm there for you. either way, i like being there for you, because i care about you. i care what happens to you, and if you need me i'll be there. i know you know that, and sometimes i think you take advantage of it.
it's so cliche, girl falls in love, guy has no idea, girl moves on. but i know that somewhere down the road i'll see you again. whether it be in 6 months or 6 years. i guess thats the thing that keeps me going for now, the fact that i'll see you again, someday. i wonder if i'll have the same feelings as i do now, or if time and life will change me.
its really embarrassing for me to admit that i like you this much. i don't want to, it scares the shit out of me. because i know that you don't like me the same. i know you don't want to be 'tied down'. and i know that you couldn't even imagine dating me.. that's why i'm not even sure if i'll send this. it just feels alright to have it all out in the open, instead of in my head.
i know me leaving probably wont change your life to much, and you wont really miss me, but i just wanted to tell you.

With love,
The one that mattered
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[30 Jan 2010|02:12pm]

Dear Jason,

When we started dating, you were still technically with another girl (who I didn't know about). When I found out, you left her and promised to be faithful. Time passed and here we are again. No, you didn't physically touch her, but you cheated emotionally. You lied to her but mostly, you lied to me. We were going to get married this August. Remember? Now I've forgiven you. Again.

For a week now, I've been scared I'm pregnant. I finally told you and you say either way, you'll stay. Today I took the test and it was negative. I told you and you called me. You sounded disappointed. Now is not the time for a baby, sweetheart. You've broken my heart more than once and now I'm just waiting for you to do it again.

You called me last night to tell me that your next deployment went from 12 months to 15 months. Yesterday, you stated "you know I'm not going to get out." Yea, baby, I've know that for much longer than you have. I've known that since the day you told me you weren't re-enlisting. You tell me it will be good because I can go to grad school and get on my feet while you have a steady income. You have this all planned out, don't you? The plan according to you.

I love you more than anything and even though you're a straight up cheater, I will probably marry you in the next couple years. I will be 110% faithful when you deploy again. I'll pick you up when you fall down. That's who I am, and you know that. I should write "welcome" on my forehead and go lie in front of the door.

You are everything to me.

The girl you put through hell but loves you anyway
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[07 Nov 2009|01:06am]
Dear You

I'm so lost. I can't even put into words how I feel right now. My heart is aching. My mind is melting, and I feel I'm losing you.

Your Lover
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