I don’t care that we aren’t together, that’s not the issue. More than I want to be with you, I want to help you. I want to make you happy and do sweet things for you. I want to take some stuff off your plate. I want to help you figure things out. I want to encourage you to be the best you. I want to make you laugh until you can’t breathe and forget why you were sad. I want to know all of your stories and tell you how perfect I think you are. You’re perfect. Not really but close enough. My kind of perfect at least. I want to ramble on to you about all of the things I love about you. How attractive you are. How great your character is. How smart you are. I want to tell you all the things and I want you to believe them. That’s my letter for the week. That’s what I wish I could do.

I think we just misunderstood each other from time to time and deep down I think we both wanted to say something yet were anxious if we had gotten the whole situation wrong.

I never told you I liked you. Not because you weren’t worth it or I didn’t like you enough to say anything. It was because I didn’t like myself enough to believe you could like me back.

The worst is watching someone who you are in love with settle for someone undeserving of them

Why do I believe so much that we will be together? You don’t pay any attention to me. It makes no sense for me to feel that you’re going to reach out soon. You give no indications of this and yet I can’t shake the feeling that it’s coming rather soon now. I’ve had too many signs and synchronicities this week to blow it off.

I can’t tell anyone how I feel or how sure I am of you. They would call me crazy. They would tell me to let it go. They would point out the lack of supporting evidence for my theory of you and I. My sureness about this upcoming reunion defies all logic.

I must be crazy, holding on to this belief that you’re still coming for me. I have zero real evidence to back that up. It is pure faith. I believe you do love me.

I only ever write here anymore when I feel like I absolutely can’t hold it in. I can’t hold it in. That video. Oh my God that video turned my heart into pudding. You are so special. God I hope people make you aware of how special you are. I wish I could love you and hug you and kiss you and take care of you. You’re so special. Please don’t ever change.

There is no doubt that my life is a mess. 

You were just a distraction from the bigger things I keep avoiding. 

You were a catalyst for change but you were never the final answer.

Strange to be a woman.

A bottomless well, quickly emptied.

Even with joy and gratitude, still some needs unmet. Still so many secrets unknown. Still a longing Thirst.

Don’t accuse me of unfaithfulness— It is not me. Nor disloyalty; it is not my colour.

Indeed I strive to be a pillar of righteousness. To be faithful and honest in all things. To be fair and behave queenly.

Still— to be a woman is to be in longing. To be in doubt. Aware of the hole in the pit of the soul, however small, every woman is born with it and bears it out all her days. Where no man can reach Nor fill. Most men are unaware of its existence and we try to maintain this facade.

We do not wish to be ”too much”. To demand too much or desire too much nor need too much because men scare and tire easily and will not endure it for long.

But there you have it. The truth of it all. Deny it if it will help you, but these words will haunt you in their knowing.

—girl who has been here too long



Whenever I have something I want to tell you, I just write it here. And when I really let myself feel that it's like the wind is blowing straight through an empty space in my chest where a full heart ought to be. I wish I could just talk to you instead.