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[23 Apr 2011|01:34am]

[ mood | lost ]

Christina, my dear friend...

2011 was supposed to be our year. Everything was supposed to work out for both of us. The past few years had been awful, but not this year. *This* year would be different. And most importantly, you were supposed to beat this thing for good.

It's been almost three months now, and I still don't believe it. I was doing so well up until tonight. I had all but convinced myself that maybe, just maybe it was starting to get easier. But no...it's not easier at all. It never gets easier. You cry a lot, suck it up, try to move on...try to hold onto the memories and maybe you start to feel a little better. Then the most random thing thrusts you back into mourning all over again. Repeat. Maybe you do a little better each time, but the pain never truly goes away. I realize that now.

Your friendship meant everything to me, and I don't know what I'm going to do without you in my life anymore. I know -- you're not really gone...that seems to be the obligatory "feel better" phrase that's always tossed around after someone who means the world to you passes away. It's not fair...you had everything in front of you. Healthy 22 year olds aren't supposed to get cancer...and it sure as hell isn't supposed to fucking end everything four years later. It's just not fair.

I know you're not suffering anymore....and I'm thankful for that. You were always too full of life to ever be tied down by anything. I guess that's what made it so hard for me at the very end. When your dad pulled me aside not too long ago and told me that secretly he had hoped we'd "come to our senses" and figure out that we should be dating...and that he would have loved it if I could have eventually been his son-in-law, my heart sank. Never mind the fact that we were more like brother and sister than anything else -- but it's still hard to think about all the things that could have been for you. But you know...we mourners aren't supposed to dwell on the "what ifs" and "could have beens."

I miss you so much. I keep thinking that you've just been away for a long time and that any day now, you'll call me and say "I'm back! Let's grab brunch!" But that call's never coming...

It's almost 2 in the morning, and I need to get some sleep. Maybe you'll visit me in a dream again tonight -- I always look forward to that...at least there, you're not gone. I love you with all my heart, Tibi.

I love you so much...

- J

the words you meant to say

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.
the words you meant to say

[12 Dec 2010|08:40pm]


This is the last time I mention your name again for as long as I live. This is my last letter to you, one that you will NEVER get the chance to read.

I hope the guilt eats you up inside. You think you can get away with everything. You can vandalize my car and leave marks on my skin and force me to perform sexual acts on you through blackmail without consequences?? I never thought in my wildest dreams you would do something to hurt me like this. I have done nothing except shown kindness after you've spit on me every chance you could. My first love, where did I go wrong? I know the difference between a healthy relationship and an unhealthy one. Why did I succumb to the pain of missing you when you always hurt me in the most unimaginable ways.

I am ashamed of myself for going back to you after the shit you pulled. I made excuses for you like I always have. I blamed myself for your horrible actions. I let go of everything I believed in to be with you. You were so charming at first. You could make me laugh when no one else could even make me smile. You told me you loved me and you thought we had something you didn't think existed. You talked about the future with me, introduced me to your family and your nephew, and told me about your dreams, fears and insecurities. I fell in love with you like I've never fallen before. But then the charm started to wear off. I started feeling insecure about things I never even thought about before. You made me stop talking to my guy friends because you couldn't trust me even though I didn't do anything to lose your trust. You told me that you didn't like my shorts or skirts because other guys would look. I changed so much about myself for you. Then I started to fight back and you started to get angry and mad and you scared me. So I broke up with you and met some one else but I still thought about you. A drunken night led me to calling you, which I regret more than anything. You facebooked the guy I was talking to and you managed to ruin what I had with him so I ran back to you because I was too weak to be alone.

I should report what you did to me this week, but I am too ashamed to admit I enabled you to hurt me again. I'm ashamed of myself and I will never speak to you ever again. You think you can leave a voicemail saying sorry and everything is okay. Fuck you. KARMA does exist and you will get what you deserve. I hope you receive help and I hope you change for the sake of your future girlfriends. I would not wish what you did to me on my worst enemy.

the girl whose been through hell and back
1 unsent letter ~ the words you meant to say

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
the words you meant to say

[08 Dec 2010|03:53am]


I've been spending the past two months trying to deal with our break up by pretending you never existed or by trashing you every possible chance I got. I spent 2 and a half years with you. And all I can think about is how it never should have happened and I am so stupid and so naive for letting you get to me. I was on my way out of the midwest like I had always hoped and I had this one night stand with you and for once I didn't give a shit 'cause I was moving in a month so what did it matter what I did? And I told my sister after that week that even though I did like you a lot it was good I was moving because you were not the commitment type and you'd probably never fall in love with me but she told me sometimes a guy falls for just one girl and that's it for him. And there I was a month later, the morning after my birthday, stupidly telling you I loved you and believing you when you said it back. And I left Illinois with such a heavy heart because I was leaving behind the person that I believed to be the elusive "one". Then you came to visit me in Florida and I was even more miserable because I was certain I was missing out on this great opportunity. And I was miserable in Florida because I hadn't given myself the chance to let go of you and move on. So I was ridiculous and I moved back less than 2 months after being in Florida to be with you. We started dating and everything was dandy for about another 2 months until I realized you weren't passionate at all. About anything. And you had no faith in anything. And that's when I first thought I should break up with you but I had just changed my life for you because you were "the one" so I held on and things got better for a while. Maybe even for the majority of the next year until I started school 3 hours away from you. And you wouldn't even consider going to the same school as me so that should have been a huge sign to me but I was blinded by what I felt for you so I stayed with you and it got so bad that I was crying and listening to stupid Taylor Swift songs in my room almost every night because I felt so shitty from how you were treating me. And once again I thought I should break up with you but I thought maybe we just need a little time for things to get better. And then we fought all of the month off of school that we spent together. But I still clung to making things work because for once in my life I didn't have someone to move on to. Then I finally told you that I was fed up with everything and you needed to change or it was over and you said you wanted me to be with you still so things got better for a while. Maybe even the majority of spring and summer but then it went to shit like always. And I kept telling myself every time we saw each other that this would be the weekend, this would be the time I would finally break up with you. I mean, it was obvious we needed to break up when I told you everything you needed to do to keep me happy. Little things, like complimenting me or saying you loved me more often. You couldn't even do that. 2 years and you couldn't even do that for me? Still, I couldn't bring myself to do it because the aftermath of me and Derek's breakup was ridiculous and I was certain I could not handle feeling that way again. So then I decided I would just move to Georgia and since you so clearly refused to move or make any compromises I was just going to stay with you until I moved in December so I wouldn't have to worry about meeting someone else and then tell you sorry, but it's over. But the weeks wore on and I could barely stand being with you anymore. Every time we hung out I was annoyed. So I planned to stay with you through Halloween so that I could at least have a date to Halloween parties but a few weeks before I was just so frustrated with you. So I told my sister as I was driving into town that weekend that was it and I was going to break up with you this weekend. And I started off the weekend treating you like shit for a reason. And then we went to Phil's. And we got in this ridiculous fight because you thought I was flirting with Will when I was really telling him not to break up with his girlfriend. So you left me and Phil's. And the next morning you texted me and broke up with me. Via text. After 2 and a half years. Really? But then you had to pick me up and take me back home and I was sad because we had 2 and a half years and so many memories so I wondered if we were doing the right thing and you didn't answer so I guess that was answer enough for me. I got more of an answer after you posted "going out as a single man" on Facebook the DAY WE BROKE UP. Classy. I felt mostly ok though until I got back to Chicago and had time alone to really think about everything. I mean, we'd been through a lot so I was upset. I was also pissed that I had put off breaking up with you just for you to beat me to it. But then I emailed you asking if you had any of my stuff and your response was some shitty email ending with "this isn't temporary so please move on". What about me asking for my shit back says that I think the break up is temporary?? I responded with some dejected email like a retard because I was feeling sorry for myself and I apologized for shit I shouldn't have. Why would I say sorry for having guy friends? You were so insecure you had to keep me from innocent friendships so why the hell should I apologize? And then your response was to say I had let myself go and didn't impress you and shouldn't have talked to my guy friends. WTF? I didn't run because I took 12 fucking credit hours and worked during the summer and because I took 17 credit hours and worked during the year and every spare minute I had I tried to spend with you. So pardon me for not exercising but jesus I'm 110 pounds! You didn't even have the argument that I gained weight and looked shitty because I definitely didn't. You on the other hand. You had a beer gut. And you stopped shaving. Gross. I couldn't even take your shirt off during sex towards the end because then I'd just stare at your chest and not want to have sex anymore. Not like I really wanted to anyway. The only way sex was even enjoyable for the last few months we had sex was with the assistance of my vibrator. And I could've sent you this message and dealt all these low blows directly after we broke up but I didn't want to do that to someone I loved. But I was obviously mistaken. How could I have loved you? No one I would love would ever say the type of shit you did to me, or do the type of shit you did to me. It was like the past 2.5 years I just was in love with a fake person. Because I clearly didn't know the REAL you. I only knew the person I pretended you were since that first month we spent together. I thought you were this great, funny, ambitious guy. I couldn't even tell you how I felt without you saying that I was over emotional and ridiculous. What kind of "great" guy does that?? What kind of decent person does that? Which just leads to one conclusion: you're not a great guy, or even a decent human being. When I look back I just see the bad. And that never happens for me because even though I would bitch about all these people to you I always have seen the best in everyone. When I look back at mine and Derek's relationship I always see the good. When we first broke up it was instinctual for my stomach to turn every time I saw a picture of you. But now I see a picture of you and I just think how the hell was I with him for so long? And I think about all the great people I passed on to be with you. Stupid me. I do have one good thing to say though, I appreciate the fact that you ended things (since I was too much of a pussy to do so) before my dumbass stayed here for you even longer and ruined my life even more. And I appreciate it that you did it with enough time for me to go on dates and hang out with my friends long enough to rebuild my confidence that you destroyed. Funny how when I stopped waiting to hear compliments from one person I started to notice all the compliments from everyone else. I can finally see myself for the funny, intelligent, caring, attractive woman that I never believed I was when I was with you. The positive thing about me moving back for you was that I got my bachelor's degree way earlier than I would have had I stayed in Florida and I am finally going to be moving where I've wanted to move and where I belong, to Georgia. And with this letter, I am finally going to stop talking shit about you and wishing you ill. I'm a firm believer in karma and for all the shit that you put me through and for being an overall bad person, you'll get yours eventually.

Goodbye forever,
1 unsent letter ~ the words you meant to say

The Most Dear of Companions [30 Nov 2010|11:14pm]

To a love I never knew until recently,

Tick, tick, tick.

At the end of the room, practically touching the ceiling, hung a round wooden clock with black roman numerals on it. Chirping away, it did several jobs with its one sound. It was not interrupted by the odd footfalls stepping into the creaking wood beneath the carpeted floors that had dulled and become hard over time. It did not feign surprise at the flipping of pages, the noise that was the seat being rearranged.

Today, the clock would tell time, tempo and emotion. A quiet metronome, it held in time every note she wished to play.

Softly stroking it's exterior, she began her dance of love. To play the piano was to be romantically entwined with music, emotion and mathematics. She, like many others before and after her, knew that in order to play, in the true sense of the word, one had to strip down all walls and be completely stripped. Vulnerable to her core.

The lightest touch could ignite sparks off ivory and black keys. Nuances and subtleties swarmed in a flurry and no longer did she have control of her body. Her fingers trembled and trilled notes in the higher octaves of the piano while her left belted strong, resounding chords.

There was so much magic in being a pianist.

She would not deny that if she had not learned to play, the musical notes would appear obsolete and without rhyme or reason. The notes themselves sweet, however mechanical or outdated. With learning to play an instrument, she found that education had purpose beyond memorisation. It was her first outlet where after learning the rules, she had free reign to recompose Bach, Shakespeare and Picasso. Music, for her, was painting in a different language. She had learned the slurs, the stacatto's, the braces and millions of musical clefs. She had understood the theory, the history, but she breathed its purpose.

Her metronome clicked away in the background, playing instructor and master daemon as her hands learned that melodies can easily dance from the left hand to the right, and often they could collide. Control, balance. When she played the piano, she was sculpting herself into the woman she wanted to become, despite however much frustration it would bring to her.

It was truly a labour of love. No one in their right mind would play scales, cadences, dominant seventh chords and Hannon or Czerny exercises simply for the fun of it. They were tedious, but necessary. Like the building blocks infants grasp so that they can walk and talk, repetition meant that each time a traid or arpeggio was sung, it could be interpreted or mastered in a new way.

There is only one kind of piano player, in her mind. Those who play without emotion have yet to truly call themselves pianists, because they have not let themselves be fully immersed in the passions of life. Because that was what playing the piano was. Waltzes brought lovers together in the most cordial of fashions to swirl endlessly on elegant marble floors in elaborate ballrooms. Marches brought courage to the military of yesteryear. Nocturnes made you fall in love, and embrace the night for all its natural and pure beauty. You could play a song perfectly technically, but what good is an action without desire? If her heart did not bleed when she played, she could not grow, and the song would never even get a chance to be born.

It's easy to tell, where soul is lacking. It's unfortunate, but it does not mean it cannot be remedied in time. Like life, one must adhere to harsh rules of rhythm and melody, and it may frustrate some to the point of rigidty. Without doubt, she steeled her heart till she was numb many a time. When a labour of love is forced, it is no longer of love, and lust loses all its strength to hold the structure of music together.

It happens to all of us.

And just as the lessons ended, after 15 years of practice, week after week, she finally accepted the piano into her heart. She had felt the love on occasion, but she was more numb, and frustrated than anything. For the first time, instead of simply listing it off as an achievement, she touched the choral medley of ebony and ivory and cried love. The piano, no longer an instrument after being so heavily included and integrated into her life, was, in fact, a part of her. Its echoes rang pure, and no longer did the clock from above the ceiling tick closer and closer to when she could finish practicing. Because she no longer practiced piano like it was a rehearsal or a medical profession. She played it, she played its fucking heart out.

Whenever she could sense it, she played innocence, anger, fury and redemption. She sang eulogies and elegies, and wept romance. She danced with history and entangled fiction. She made the world her own.

And though the creaking carpet didn't creak so frequently as it did in the past, toward her piano, it was mutually acknowledged that there would never, from this day forward, let love lost again.

One soul, dwelling in two bodies.

With all her love,
your little girl
2 unsent letters ~ the words you meant to say

[10 Nov 2010|06:52am]

Dear Jonas.
I'm sorry. So sorry. Because when you told me your mom died, all I could think of was that we're never going to be the same again, this is going to change everything.

I'm sorry for being so fucking selfish.
the words you meant to say

[18 Oct 2010|03:19pm]

[ mood | crappy ]

Dear Dad,

I hate you.
i've been engaged for a year.
i'm getting married in 7 months.

and you don't even care enough to pick up the phone and call.

you're a selfish asshole.
getting closer to just saying goodbye to you before it kills me any more.

i just wanted a dad.
and all i ever had was a father, who didnt care.

closer to goodbye.
your daughter.

the words you meant to say

[28 Aug 2010|01:03am]

Dear J,
You said we'd meet. I want to know when. I want to know how. Where. I want to know this isn't just a vague far off maybe someday promise. Again. Everytime we try to meet something happens, and every time I bring up meeting, you get defensive or shut off or angry. Yes, I bring it up a lot, jesus christ, is it so bad for me to want MORE from this, from us? Especially considering you KNOW my history with meeting people online, how can you get mad when I call you out on being shady? Do I trust you? Yes. Do I have any fucking reason to? No, not really. You've given me no concrete evidence. Yes, there are a few things that are basically undeniable, so that you MUST be who you say you are. But at the same time, given how little you've given me to go on over an entire fucking year, I don't think it's wrong for me to question. All my friends think you're fake, and I feel like such an IDIOT for trying to argue with them. I know you're who you say you are, but I want you to prove it. Goddamn, can you blame me for asking nearly every day? I fucking love you. I am in love with you, whether you are who you say you are or not. I'm in love with the person I know. But I just want to talk to you, to see you, to hold you, I feel so fucking alone. I don't know whether this is worth it or not anymore. Can you blame me for asking why you don't want to meet me? You said it's not true but that's what it feels like. I feel like I'm in one of those stupid illegitmate relationships everyone was in on xanga when we were 12. I want this to be real. I just don't know how to handle this overwhelming loneliness anymore.

I want more. If you can't give me that, I don't want to give you anymore of me.

your 'girlfriend'
the words you meant to say

[29 Mar 2010|03:26pm]

Dear Ron,

How can I stop loving you? You're just this boy that broke down all my walls, made me feel like it was okay to love you, made me feel like maybe I wasn't crazy... and then took it all away just as fast. I know you think I'm naive, you've always thought that. You always treated me like something fragile that needed to be protected... but where are you now? Seriously Ron, where are you now? I feel like this gap between us is so huge, I could never find my way back... but I don't want to give up. I promised you I'd never give up on you. How much longer is it going to take... how much more do I have to fight to prove to you that I'm that girl for you. I know I am. I want to be the one who's standing next to you when all your dreams come true. I believe in you. I've always believed in you. I want you to believe in me too.

All these sad songs always have meaning... because of you. I don't want to give up, but I'm also scared to keep fighting.

I love you.

the words you meant to say

[25 Mar 2010|11:19pm]

[ mood | calm ]

Dear Self,

Im proud of us. Im glad that we have gotten to the point that our skin doesnt crawl at the comments he leaves other girls, or when hes out doing god knows what with god knows who, our stomach doesnt drop. This is a new developement for us, but Im thankful we are finally seeing the light. I guess instead of the usual "My resolution is to get a beach body by June" should have been replaced with "I will get over him" because thats the only thing that has held true since January 1st. Even the slip ups when we replied to his "I want to start over" texts, you still held true to yourself, and although what you really wanted was to never talk to him again... atleast you didnt fall for his annoying lies, because those are like poison... and we can just never seem to get enough.

I know that we thought that it'd be a piece of cake this time around... its not like the first time you've ever broken up with him... but im happy that we are evolving into a much stronger woman. Our heart is finally listening to our brain... and our mind has known it all along.. he is just not the one for us.

he can say hes changed, that he loves us more than life itself, that hed do anything to fix what has happened... but words are useless... he never backs them up anyways and tonight was the perfect example. "I dont even talk to her anymore, she is nothing to me, you are all that i want, i want to be with you" blah blah blah... and what is he doing now that you assured him it was over? leaving her god damn comments on facebook.

pleaseeeeeeeeeee hold true to yourself. you will get there someday, even if it takes a year or two. keep holding strong self, because i need you to. We have already been showing so much progress and even though we break down and check his updates, one day it'll be all over for good.

Love, ME

5 unsent letters ~ the words you meant to say

[27 Feb 2010|03:10pm]

Dear Heart,

Please stop breaking at every love song or couple holding hands. It's going to be okay.

2 unsent letters ~ the words you meant to say

[21 Feb 2010|08:24pm]

Dear Ex-

I hate that you wouldn't give me a title. That the concept of a relationship was so hard for you. I hate that I can't hate you one bit for the hell you put me through over the last 3 months. You were my first everything. EVERYTHING. And if you broke up with me because I wouldn't have sex with you, then I think that's complete and total bullshit. You weren't worth my virginity. And I still will probably never understand how you could blame all of this ending on me never jumping out of the friend zone with you.

So you make out with all your friends then? You tell all your friends that you're dating them? You spend 48 hours straight with your friends, watching movies and kissing and talking about the future? You take your clothes off with all of your friends and jump into territory that is completely and utterly new with all your friends? I knew from the get-go of your experience, and you knew of mine. I knew of your reputation but for some reason, I still saw the good in you. You were my best friend.

And now... now we aren't even speaking. And it's breaking my heart. Every single day.

I loved you, kid.

2 unsent letters ~ the words you meant to say

[08 Feb 2010|10:59pm]

Dear everyone on here,
I am sorry for how many letters I write. I know that to most of you, its just wasted space... but its therapy to me. I'm afraid that if I dont write whats going on or how I feel.. when Im upset or angry or sad... that I will forget how many good days I have had and that i will suddenly go running back to the very thing that makes me feel horrible. Old habits die hard, and i understand that but this community has helped me get out my emotions when i didnt know who to rant to. :) There is nothing better than sitting down and writing one of these with no one you personally know reading it. I dont have to worry about feeling obnoxious, or that how I feel will be spread around my friends or get back to my ex. I feel safe when I come here and with all of you who take the time to read things and give your advice.

I am going through a time in my life that I never thought would come.. I am getting over my ex boyfriend whom i've dated since i was 14. Im 21 now. I've had good days, hell... ive had great days but then those are those days of lonliness that get the best of me.. or when i promise myself not to check his status's and i find out who/what hes been doing... with girls that he swore up and down he had no interest with. Thats what really gets me the most... i just want to pick up my phone and text him and tell him exactly how much i hate him and how could he do this to me... etc. but to be honest, i dont want to hear what he has to say..

I am 36 days sober. (yes, sober of the hell i have been put through with him) I havent seen or talked to him. ALTHOUGH he has tried to talk to me... I am proud. I am strong. And i have every single one of you to thank for it.

So thank you for everyone who takes the time to read and write on this community. Because every bit helps... in so many ways..

4 unsent letters ~ the words you meant to say

[03 Feb 2010|07:24pm]

[ mood | calm ]

Dear whoever you've become,

Thanks for the text message. 30 days later? You muscled up the paragraph, "Im sorry for how bad I treated you in the past, you never deserved to be treated that way. I hope you've found happiness... You dont have to text me back, I just wanted to let you know. Night." It took 30 days to write that? Granted.. its something, but all the years we worked to build the relationship we had with eachother, you couldnt say, I love you? I miss you? Youre the only one for me? Maybe Im asking for too much here but I honestly dont think I am. I didnt want to text you back because I know if I did, you would've guilted me back into this... and I dont want to be another pawn in your stupid mind games anymore. After a relationship of 6 years, you should've done something right after I told you I was through. You just acted like it never happened and went on with your life like I was never a big part of it. I know you thought I was just over-reacting... that I'd come crawling back... but you were wrong. AND I FEEL SORRY FOR YOU. Im a great girlfriend, I was there for you, I went out of my way to show I cared, I loved you.... and now your going to have to settle for less. This is what I've wanted to say since you sent me that text on Saturday, but I'm starting to understand that somethings are better left unsaid and in the past. You are apart of my past now. Congrats. And dont think for a second I dont know about her. Yeah, the stupid little girl you were trying to date when we were together.... that you told me I had no reason to worry. I've seen your comments to her on facebook. Thanks for fueling my fire.

The girl who wants nothing to do with you

the words you meant to say

[24 Jan 2010|12:19pm]

Dear newly Ex-boyfriend,

I'm sorry for trying to change you. I'm sorry for holding on for so long when I knew things would never work between us. I could sit here, and hate you for everything you said to me in our last phone call. But instead, I'm going to thank you. Thank you for having the strength to leave when you know I wasn't strong enough to break it off. You have become my best friend, and I was afraid of leaving you. Every time I tried to leave, I'd come crawling back to you. I'm sorry for witholding sex "like an old married woman"- you crack me up. But the thing is, for the past few weeks I haven't had any desire for you in a physical sense. I wasn't trying to punish you, I just simply am not into you anymore. And I refused to listen to my heart and break up with you. Thank you for letting me go.

the girl that gave you everything and needs to find herself again

update: I love how you wouldn't give me any of my shit back.. and how you make me once again be the one to break up with you when you are the one with the problems in the relationship. i hate that you can say you love me, and then treat me like shit.. stop playing games with my heart.. oh god, isnt that a backstreet boys song or something?
3 unsent letters ~ the words you meant to say

[20 Jan 2010|10:22pm]

[ mood | okay ]

Dear My first everything,

We met in 7th grade but it wasnt actually until 8th grade we were what you'd call "offical". You were the biggest jerk, who made fun of everyone. I was the girl that never said anything bad about anyone. We broke up 2 weeks later, but I still liked you.

High School came around. I made captain for cheer, you were playing football. We went back out. You kissed me... and it was my first real kiss. I was so happy, I could fly. Until you cheated on me with one of my friends. You quit football, you started hanging out with Seniors and partying, but I still liked you... so when you came back to me... I was their with open arms. Rumors flooded the school about you having sex with Jennifer, but you promised it wasnt true. I believed you... so there we went. You held my hand at the golf course as everyone walked infront of us. You took me on a trial to watch the stars, just the two of us. You danced with me that night and you whispered "I love you." It was the first time in my life that I felt the same way.

10th grade came around. We were perfect, or so I thought until you started to get into drugs. I'll never forget the time I walked into Jake's bedroom to find you in the corner smashing pills. It completely broke my heart to see you like that. I ran home... crying. You ran after me saying it wasnt for you... little did I know after you went back to his house it was their waiting for you to sniff.

Halloween night that year, you promised you werent talking to this skimpy little girl from the town 30 minutes away from us. Then she called you.. more than once. I cried that night too and we broke up. I promised this time it was over... as you finding yourself in her arms. As Christmas came around I was crying myself to sleep almost every night with the hurtful things you would put on her myspace page or on your away messages. School was hard for me, I couldnt be around you.. but no one knew it. I learned to fake. I learned to show no emotion.

New years... you told her you loved her. She flaunted it to the world to see.. I dont know how I ever got over that.

You once again found your way back to me.. and with numerous of fights and arguments, you fought for us to be back together.. that she was just to make me jealous. How could I have been so stupid to take you back then? When I look back now, this should have been our end, but it wasnt... not even close. The rumors again with you sleeping with this girl, not to mention the 3 others. You swore up and down that these girls were just saying that so we wouldnt be together. You told me to believe in us, and that no one in the world matter but us. I believed you.

Junior year was just as bad. Your drug problem just worsened, but you told me pretty white lies, that sounded so sweet that I couldnt just walk away. So rather than admit you had a problem, I ignored it. My parents hated you, my friends hated you, and even though i was madly in love with you, a piece of me has always hated you since the moment you told someone else you loved them.

That summer, I gave you the biggest thing I could ever give someone. My virginity. I made you wait for all those years, and although I dont regret it.... I do wish that I would've seen the signs that our relationship just isnt meant to be. So I couldve given it to someone that actually cared for me.

Senior year was suppose to be the best. No one would've known it was the hardest year of my life. Winning homecoming queen should've been my biggest moment, but you ruined it. The whole time I was worried about where you were.... little did I know you were getting high. You werent there for me and you didnt even make me feel special. It was a sad moment rather than a happy one.

I finally told you enough was enough after that. That if you continued to do drugs, you couldnt have me anymore and I dont think you believed me. Who would though? How many times did I say that in the past, but continued to be your girlfriend. But I left that night.... and I found someone else. He was amazing. He put me first. Something I wasnt use to. He was a gentleman, he was a basketball star, and he called everytime he said he would. Months had passed, and I was happy, but I did miss you. You walked into my life again.... and you said you had been staying sober to win me back. I wish I didnt trust you... because if i didnt i'd probably still have that guy in my life. someone who deserves me.

Prom came... and again. You ruined it for me. You were late, you didnt even try to look good, and you did Herione in the bathroom stall at dinner. You were a mess. The dance sucked.. because you didnt want to dance. We left early and instead of going out with everyone... we had the biggset fight ever. I confronted you about drugs, and well you know the rest. You passed out after your high, and I went home crying... at 5 in the morning.

I think you get the point of where I'm going. Were both 21 now... and I understand that this letter doesnt have any of our good times in it and alot of our bad times are left out as well. These are the moments that I think about when I think of you. I did everything for you. I put my life on hold, I tried to get you sober, I paid for things when you were behind on bills, I bought you expensive presents because I didnt want to disappoint you, I was even there for you when you got out of jail.

I thought this year was going to be different for us you know... You have finally been a year sober. Every single moment we've shared in the past, you were high on drugs. And its really hurtful to me. Its just I saw something in you back then.. I use to tell myself just wait until he's better, then we'll be better and we'll get married and be high school sweethearts, but now I realize how wrong I am for doing that, because the moment you got sober... I still wasnt your first priority. You see, you always do that to me. I can never be your first. No matter what it is... and I should've let go a long time ago. The things you have done are just not okay and although your a better person as a whole now... you still treat me like shit after all those years I stood by you.

I dont know where this letter is going. I just needed to get it off my chest since we havent talked since New Years. I want you to know that I dont regret us, but I am no longer in love with you. I can finally say that without lying. My heart has finally said enough is enough. I love you for being my first everything, but please dont come around anymore. I'm not coming back this time. No matter what you say, or do... my heart just isnt attracted to you any longer.... and I feel bad for you, because Im a great catch.

Take Care,
Forever no longer yours..

5 unsent letters ~ the words you meant to say

[18 Jan 2010|11:21pm]

Dear you,
I don't know why you had pictures of a naked girl on your computer and I know I'm too pussy to confront you about it because at the end of the day i don't want to loose you. So, i'm going to fake a smile and pretend like i never saw it.
And your always talking about me being so one sided... but really, tell me your side. i'd love to hear it this time.
your girlfriend... at least that's what I've been thinking i was for the past 3 years...
2 unsent letters ~ the words you meant to say

[19 Jan 2010|03:38am]

Dear self,

why do you feel this way? Other people have it so bad and yet you feel all emo and think about suicide at times just because you're too lazy to work towards something. Keep searching for what you believe in, hopefully it'll pay off in the end. Search for love, search for you dream job, search for confidence, you'll be happy someday.

the words you meant to say

[19 Jan 2010|03:35am]

dear boyfriend,

what happened? we were so in love to begin with. You were so sweet...making me mixed cds and sending me flowers and texting me how much you missed me when I was just across the room. and now that I show my real side, my emotional side, my flaws, etc., you don't seem to be into me as much. What happened? Do you miss how it used to be? Do you care? All you seem to care about is your career. You don't have faith in anything, even me. I just want it to be the same. I just want to be happy and in love again. Can we do that?

Love (?),
your girlfriend.
the words you meant to say

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