We received this update the submission form on the Love Letters website:
I wrote a letter to myself when I was 22 and am supposed to open it when I’m 33.
I guess I was inspired by the double-digits.
I wrote all these PREDICTIONS about what my life was going to be like. I have a feeling I am going to be DEPRESSED when I get to it in a few years!
My letter to myself at 44 is going to be much more generous and allow for changing interests.
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Have you ever thought about writing yourself a love letter?
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
two hundred ten
Mike,
Another year passes. You struggle with aging, with the changes ahead. You’ve never been good at handling change you’ve had little control over.
I want to remind you how much I love you. How much I cherish all the silly times we have and will continue to in our future. I want you to understand how I don’t notice all the minuscule changes you notice as major changes because I am in love with you for what’s inside, not what’s outside.
Read more...
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Another year passes. You struggle with aging, with the changes ahead. You’ve never been good at handling change you’ve had little control over.
I want to remind you how much I love you. How much I cherish all the silly times we have and will continue to in our future. I want you to understand how I don’t notice all the minuscule changes you notice as major changes because I am in love with you for what’s inside, not what’s outside.
Read more...
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Sunday, July 29, 2012
two hundred nine
I’ve traveled to many places.
Which means that I’ve woken up in many places. – with a feeling of happiness, with a sense of adventure.
But when the place I wake up is your bed…
Well, let’s just say that the past feelings...
Read more...
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Which means that I’ve woken up in many places. – with a feeling of happiness, with a sense of adventure.
But when the place I wake up is your bed…
Well, let’s just say that the past feelings...
Read more...
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Share your love letters at http://jabsloveletters.com
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Friday, July 27, 2012
two hundred eight
You struggle with aging, with the changes ahead.
You’ve never been good at handling changes you have little control over.
I want to remind you how much I love you. How much I cherish all the silly times we have. How much I don’t notice all the changes your noticing because I’m in love with you for what’s inside not what’s outside or anything else.
Read more...
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You’ve never been good at handling changes you have little control over.
I want to remind you how much I love you. How much I cherish all the silly times we have. How much I don’t notice all the changes your noticing because I’m in love with you for what’s inside not what’s outside or anything else.
Read more...
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Wednesday, July 25, 2012
two hundred seven
You’re searching for yourself in a lost struggle on an emotional
roller coaster of chaos.
You feel so overwhelmed, so out of control, so useless, unimportant.
Your days become hours of wake cycles for you to put on a fake face and go through your daily mindless motions. Do you not have any idea how loved you are? Any comprehension of it at all?
I would do anything to take away the pain that you feel.
Read more...
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You feel so overwhelmed, so out of control, so useless, unimportant.
Your days become hours of wake cycles for you to put on a fake face and go through your daily mindless motions. Do you not have any idea how loved you are? Any comprehension of it at all?
I would do anything to take away the pain that you feel.
Read more...
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Monday, July 23, 2012
two hundred six
I continue to hope.
I hope that one day you will finally choose what’s best for your life – even when it means sacrifice and selflessness – so that you can prosper.
And because I continue to hope, I am easily disappointed when time-after-time I see you make decisions that fulfill your here-and-now wants and desires.
I want so much more for you.
I wanted me for you — but there’s only so much disappointment my heart can stomach. I had hoped to inspire you towards more. You are my family and so, I wanted the moon and stars and universe for you – but those kinds of treasures cannot be obtained by another on your behalf — you have to believe them, to want them, to pursue them for yourself.
Read more...
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I hope that one day you will finally choose what’s best for your life – even when it means sacrifice and selflessness – so that you can prosper.
And because I continue to hope, I am easily disappointed when time-after-time I see you make decisions that fulfill your here-and-now wants and desires.
I want so much more for you.
I wanted me for you — but there’s only so much disappointment my heart can stomach. I had hoped to inspire you towards more. You are my family and so, I wanted the moon and stars and universe for you – but those kinds of treasures cannot be obtained by another on your behalf — you have to believe them, to want them, to pursue them for yourself.
Read more...
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Saturday, July 21, 2012
two hundred five
The unshed tears sting my eyes.
I’m not sure what to say.
It isn’t you who’s made me so sad or unhappy…Life has provided bombardment enough for that. Over and over again, the bombs drop and I’m desperate for a reprieve.
I’m not sure that you’ve ever seen this side of me. It’s a far cry from the easy smiles and bubbly exterior. I could tell that you were processing this newness, even as you were doing your best to comfort me. Even in my distress, I could appreciate your effort…you flip-flopped like a landed fish, from sweet and strong ready and willing to cradle me in your arms to chummy and sarcastic, your natural state of being. I know that you were trying to offer the expression “chin up” through out actions…
Read more...
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I’m not sure what to say.
It isn’t you who’s made me so sad or unhappy…Life has provided bombardment enough for that. Over and over again, the bombs drop and I’m desperate for a reprieve.
I’m not sure that you’ve ever seen this side of me. It’s a far cry from the easy smiles and bubbly exterior. I could tell that you were processing this newness, even as you were doing your best to comfort me. Even in my distress, I could appreciate your effort…you flip-flopped like a landed fish, from sweet and strong ready and willing to cradle me in your arms to chummy and sarcastic, your natural state of being. I know that you were trying to offer the expression “chin up” through out actions…
Read more...
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Thursday, July 19, 2012
two hundred four
I’m not even sure who you are anymore.
I see the photos online.
I see your smile as you participate in the happy times around you.
But are you really happy? Or are you pretending?
I thought I knew you, but now I am not sure.
I can’t figure out how you operate, how you live.
Do you even have a heart?
If you do, it must be tattered and torn – maybe jacked up with bits of machine, to replace the human parts that don’t work anymore.
Read more...
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I see the photos online.
I see your smile as you participate in the happy times around you.
But are you really happy? Or are you pretending?
I thought I knew you, but now I am not sure.
I can’t figure out how you operate, how you live.
Do you even have a heart?
If you do, it must be tattered and torn – maybe jacked up with bits of machine, to replace the human parts that don’t work anymore.
Read more...
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Tuesday, July 17, 2012
two hundred three
I love the way you wake me up so that we can make love.
At any time of day you step into my life and refresh my sense of being, my sense of purpose. You accept me as I am and touch me freely, reminding me that I’m a real. You ground me…with you.
And our roots, which grew tentatively at first, grow deep.
They stretch and luxuriate in the rich soil.
It’s a time to relax in each other; to grow.
Read more...
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At any time of day you step into my life and refresh my sense of being, my sense of purpose. You accept me as I am and touch me freely, reminding me that I’m a real. You ground me…with you.
And our roots, which grew tentatively at first, grow deep.
They stretch and luxuriate in the rich soil.
It’s a time to relax in each other; to grow.
Read more...
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Sunday, July 15, 2012
two hundred two
The way you care about me makes me a different person, a better person.
There’s nothing like dealing with the battles of everyday life – some of them winning, some losing – and knowing that I can come home to you. When you wrap your arms around me, I feel safe. When you help me make dinner, I know that I am not alone in adding to the nurturing-care of the household. When you kiss me, I feel – whether win or lose – I am still desirable; and that you still see me as a worthy life-partner.
Read more...
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There’s nothing like dealing with the battles of everyday life – some of them winning, some losing – and knowing that I can come home to you. When you wrap your arms around me, I feel safe. When you help me make dinner, I know that I am not alone in adding to the nurturing-care of the household. When you kiss me, I feel – whether win or lose – I am still desirable; and that you still see me as a worthy life-partner.
Read more...
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Friday, June 15, 2012
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
one hundred ninety-four
Why did I love you?
I don't know.
You made me feel alive, you made me feel.
How ironic, that you can't say the same.
As a matter of fact, you said you felt nothing. NOTHING!!
"Hadn't in years," you said.
I was hoping you meant "that was before I met you."
I was hoping you meant,"now that I have you, I can feel again."
At least that's what I rocked myself to sleep believing, when you turned your back on me and rolled to the other side of the bed. "He just doesn't like to cuddle" I told myself.
"He's an aloof sort of fellow, I can deal with that...(maybe), the proof that he cares is that he keeps seeing me, spending time with me, sleeping with me, taking trips to the mountains...that has to mean something."
Every time I thought I heard the death knoll of our non-relationship and was ready for the axe to fall, the opposite happened. We spent a wonderful day or weekend together. But then came the silence, the days of not hearing from you. It would have turned into weeks if I had not swallowed my pride and called you, asking, hinting, begging to see you. I expected resistance. Instead you nonchalantly said, "Sure, come on over I'm waiting for you, lets do something fun."
Why did you not just step up and be a man? Why did you not just say,"Sit down. We have to talk. I don't think this is going anywhere?"
Instead you posted hints on Facebook: "The last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings, but it's still on my list" A humorous quote that was being re-posted by many. How did I know it was directed at me. Like a fool, I commented with a hahaha.
But you, probably without a good replacement prospect, decided to just "Keep me hanging on." Oh how you must have agonized and debated, "ditch her now or wait till the cute blond takes me up on my offer of dinner? HEY! Maybe I could have both!!!"
I wondered why, why, why and I guess I'll never know, why you even waste the time wooing your way through girl after girl after girl. I was hoping I was wrong when I told you the cowards way in a note left with your key, that I know you never really cared about me, that I just had to get on with my life.
I was hoping you would tell me that it wasn't all just a matter of convenience, but then you made that post. The one that asked which movie describes your love life, and you answered "The Good, The Bad and The Convenient."
"YOU BASTARD"!!!!!!
This love letter was submitted to the blog in reply to Post 170.
It has been formatted and re-posted here.
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I don't know.
You made me feel alive, you made me feel.
How ironic, that you can't say the same.
As a matter of fact, you said you felt nothing. NOTHING!!
"Hadn't in years," you said.
I was hoping you meant "that was before I met you."
I was hoping you meant,"now that I have you, I can feel again."
At least that's what I rocked myself to sleep believing, when you turned your back on me and rolled to the other side of the bed. "He just doesn't like to cuddle" I told myself.
"He's an aloof sort of fellow, I can deal with that...(maybe), the proof that he cares is that he keeps seeing me, spending time with me, sleeping with me, taking trips to the mountains...that has to mean something."
Every time I thought I heard the death knoll of our non-relationship and was ready for the axe to fall, the opposite happened. We spent a wonderful day or weekend together. But then came the silence, the days of not hearing from you. It would have turned into weeks if I had not swallowed my pride and called you, asking, hinting, begging to see you. I expected resistance. Instead you nonchalantly said, "Sure, come on over I'm waiting for you, lets do something fun."
Why did you not just step up and be a man? Why did you not just say,"Sit down. We have to talk. I don't think this is going anywhere?"
Instead you posted hints on Facebook: "The last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings, but it's still on my list" A humorous quote that was being re-posted by many. How did I know it was directed at me. Like a fool, I commented with a hahaha.
But you, probably without a good replacement prospect, decided to just "Keep me hanging on." Oh how you must have agonized and debated, "ditch her now or wait till the cute blond takes me up on my offer of dinner? HEY! Maybe I could have both!!!"
I wondered why, why, why and I guess I'll never know, why you even waste the time wooing your way through girl after girl after girl. I was hoping I was wrong when I told you the cowards way in a note left with your key, that I know you never really cared about me, that I just had to get on with my life.
I was hoping you would tell me that it wasn't all just a matter of convenience, but then you made that post. The one that asked which movie describes your love life, and you answered "The Good, The Bad and The Convenient."
"YOU BASTARD"!!!!!!
This love letter was submitted to the blog in reply to Post 170.
It has been formatted and re-posted here.
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Send your love letters to jabsloveletters.com
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
one hundred ninety-three
To Bryan,
Winter is on her way. Lately I have found myself searching for you more and more in the pages of novels and in the old leather-covered poetry books that line my shelves.
It’s surprising in that all the poets and all the authors seem to know the loss of you, too, and they find the words that I can’t to describe the aching feeling you’ve left me with. They keep me company now that you’re gone, and their companionship has become something I value rather greatly.
I still miss you.
C.
See this post and more at http://to-bryan.tumblr.com/
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Winter is on her way. Lately I have found myself searching for you more and more in the pages of novels and in the old leather-covered poetry books that line my shelves.
It’s surprising in that all the poets and all the authors seem to know the loss of you, too, and they find the words that I can’t to describe the aching feeling you’ve left me with. They keep me company now that you’re gone, and their companionship has become something I value rather greatly.
I still miss you.
C.
See this post and more at http://to-bryan.tumblr.com/
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Tuesday, April 3, 2012
one hundred ninety-two
My Love,
I at first didn’t know what to talk about. Just like every day, I suppose. (And I promise I will get off the whole “Iunnowhattosaaaaaaay” train soon. I promise.) But I decided to check my twitter before I started writing and just as I looked, I found something work replying to!
Just as backstory, I have this friend D. We met on livejournal through similar communities and actually lived in the same town. I realized that I knew his brother in real life and we both laughed over that. Then we started really talking and becoming more casual friends. And I would like to believe that now even though we have more base personality traits in common rather than active interests- even though it really was like that from the beginning -that we think of each other as more intellectual equals.
Which is interesting and I believe more healthy for me to have a relationship like this because I have issues with not being intelligent enough or being not worthy of respect. Not that I want people bowing down to me, but I do not want to be considered a servant nor an underling. I think that the way that I speak with D brings out the intelligence in both of us and allows us to take ourselves and each other seriously as driven people in this world. I also appreciate our philosophical conversations about life, the universe, and everything. It adds light to my life when the rare time that we start a conversation happens. But I shall give examples on another day. I must decide if I am to sleep now or stay up even if though I have work once again tomorrow.
Always yours,
N
See this post and more at http://threesixtyfiveloveletters.tumblr.com/
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I at first didn’t know what to talk about. Just like every day, I suppose. (And I promise I will get off the whole “Iunnowhattosaaaaaaay” train soon. I promise.) But I decided to check my twitter before I started writing and just as I looked, I found something work replying to!
Just as backstory, I have this friend D. We met on livejournal through similar communities and actually lived in the same town. I realized that I knew his brother in real life and we both laughed over that. Then we started really talking and becoming more casual friends. And I would like to believe that now even though we have more base personality traits in common rather than active interests- even though it really was like that from the beginning -that we think of each other as more intellectual equals.
Which is interesting and I believe more healthy for me to have a relationship like this because I have issues with not being intelligent enough or being not worthy of respect. Not that I want people bowing down to me, but I do not want to be considered a servant nor an underling. I think that the way that I speak with D brings out the intelligence in both of us and allows us to take ourselves and each other seriously as driven people in this world. I also appreciate our philosophical conversations about life, the universe, and everything. It adds light to my life when the rare time that we start a conversation happens. But I shall give examples on another day. I must decide if I am to sleep now or stay up even if though I have work once again tomorrow.
Always yours,
N
See this post and more at http://threesixtyfiveloveletters.tumblr.com/
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Monday, April 2, 2012
one hundred ninety-one
Love Letters to Emma: A Train Ride to Nowhere.
I look around. It’s so dark. No more do I experience the unusual sensation of not knowing where I am when I wake. I’ve been here long enough. Too long. My upper thighs and waist ache because of my harness. I stand up on a small ledge, momentarily freeing my legs and waist of the annoying pain.
Emma. I don’t really know what to say. I assume you haven’t seen my videos yet. They only have a few hundred views each. But, I will push through this. I feel like my mind may last longer than my body. I only have enough food for another month or so. What will I do then? I’m not sure. Emma, I dream of us together. I still wait for your video response. Your fans have done great in spreading my videos as far as they have already. I would thank them too. Emma, please save me.
Until then, I shall meet you in my dreams.
Always yours, Michael.”
See this post and more at http://ransomvlog.tumblr.com/
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Sunday, April 1, 2012
one hundred ninety
Long Distance Relationship
Her: You are the most sweetest and caring boyfriend ever! I love you so so muchhh. Reading this uplifted me, yet made me miss you even more. Being away from you is tearing me apart from the inside, out. I’m sorryyy for becoming so weak…I’m trying my best to be strong since that’s the only choice i have. I can’t imagine my life without you and now being far from you is starting to hurt more than ever. I am no longer capable of pretending like it’s an easy task not being by your side. I wish there was a way we could be closer. I can’t wait to see you again.<3
See this post and more at http://mariamx3u.tumblr.com/
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Saturday, March 31, 2012
one hundred eighty-nine
Mama why did you have to leave?
Your ex is hurting Adam and Sammy and I can’t do anything about it. Life has been so hard since you left. I miss you…we miss you…I know you’re always with us…but you’re not here to kick his ass like I know you want to.
I love Adam with all my heart even though I used to tell you I didn’t…I think you knew that, even when I didn’t want to love him. I hope you see Adam and see how proud I am of him. I know you weren’t my mother but you were/are like a mama to me.
I love you and will always miss you.
See this post and more at http://fool-me-with-your-eyes.tumblr.com/
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Thursday, March 29, 2012
one hundred eighty-eight
Hey, how are you?
Here, I miss you. I miss your good morning. I miss you sitting right beside me. I miss you who always played with my teddy keychain during the lesson. I miss the times when I told you that your tie wasn’t tidy enough. I miss the times when we were still sitting side by side even the seats were ruled by the roster. I miss the times when we were singing together in native class. I miss the time when we were practicing those ridiculous things we found from the free magazine. I miss the times we spent together.
I miss your voice calling my name.
I miss your black short hair with a little tiny tail in the backside. I miss your tapering fingers, which were more beautiful than mine. I miss your jokes and our laugh. I miss your smile, even it looked like horse’s. I miss everything in you. I miss you. I really do.
Even I miss you so bad, even I wish to turn back the time, even if I had the ability to turn back the time, I wouldn’t turn it back. Because if it only happen in the past, it would be as pointless as now, I still can’t be with you. So, let me just dream, a sweet dream of us. Goodnight.
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Here, I miss you. I miss your good morning. I miss you sitting right beside me. I miss you who always played with my teddy keychain during the lesson. I miss the times when I told you that your tie wasn’t tidy enough. I miss the times when we were still sitting side by side even the seats were ruled by the roster. I miss the times when we were singing together in native class. I miss the time when we were practicing those ridiculous things we found from the free magazine. I miss the times we spent together.
I miss your voice calling my name.
I miss your black short hair with a little tiny tail in the backside. I miss your tapering fingers, which were more beautiful than mine. I miss your jokes and our laugh. I miss your smile, even it looked like horse’s. I miss everything in you. I miss you. I really do.
Even I miss you so bad, even I wish to turn back the time, even if I had the ability to turn back the time, I wouldn’t turn it back. Because if it only happen in the past, it would be as pointless as now, I still can’t be with you. So, let me just dream, a sweet dream of us. Goodnight.
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Wednesday, March 28, 2012
one hundred eighty-seven
Dear Stranger,
I’ve been thinking about you so much, I can’t even sleep.
I’m sure that if only we’d met, known each other, that we could have saved the world, that there wouldn’t be all this horror, this violence.
We didn’t. The world burns on.
I love you.
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I’ve been thinking about you so much, I can’t even sleep.
I’m sure that if only we’d met, known each other, that we could have saved the world, that there wouldn’t be all this horror, this violence.
We didn’t. The world burns on.
I love you.
See this post and more at: taylorbwells.tumblr
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Tuesday, March 27, 2012
one hundred eighty-six
If you were here, this would be much better.
It’s not bad at the moment. It’s actually pretty ok.
What I’m doing is reading a load of essays about realism and drinking a can of Mexican beer and eating carrots dipped in hummus, whilst wrapped in a blanket and listening to miscellaneous jazz records… but if you were here, it would be much better.
If you were here, I guess there would be a lot to talk about. There would be a lot to catch up on.
Partly, it would be weird. I would want to know why you were suddenly here and why you weren’t over there anymore and if everything was ok and what the hell is happening? Why didn’t you call first? etc.
But I would hope that you would have reasonable answers to those questions and we could move on fairly swiftly. I would really hope that you had brought some wine or maybe some cider or something, just a little bit. I would also like it if you brought snacks.
If you were here, we would become casual within 10-15 minutes. I would be awkward for the first part, because I’d be taken off guard and not expecting it. But if you were here, and it was real and not a dream or an illusion or a weird trick of the light (imagine that, it’s funny), it would be better than this is already, right now.
I think that what would be ideal would be if we could change the record. I really feel like listening to Nirvana. What do you think? Recently I’ve been having these strange urges to listen to Nirvana. It was as though one day recently, something in my brain ‘clicked’ and I felt like I was approximately ten years younger and would enjoy listening to Nirvana in a very sincere and appreciative way.
It would be better if you were here because you are my friend.
You are my friend because I know that you love me and I know that I love you.
Read this post and more at: thatpaintingsnotsoblue
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It’s not bad at the moment. It’s actually pretty ok.
What I’m doing is reading a load of essays about realism and drinking a can of Mexican beer and eating carrots dipped in hummus, whilst wrapped in a blanket and listening to miscellaneous jazz records… but if you were here, it would be much better.
If you were here, I guess there would be a lot to talk about. There would be a lot to catch up on.
Partly, it would be weird. I would want to know why you were suddenly here and why you weren’t over there anymore and if everything was ok and what the hell is happening? Why didn’t you call first? etc.
But I would hope that you would have reasonable answers to those questions and we could move on fairly swiftly. I would really hope that you had brought some wine or maybe some cider or something, just a little bit. I would also like it if you brought snacks.
If you were here, we would become casual within 10-15 minutes. I would be awkward for the first part, because I’d be taken off guard and not expecting it. But if you were here, and it was real and not a dream or an illusion or a weird trick of the light (imagine that, it’s funny), it would be better than this is already, right now.
I think that what would be ideal would be if we could change the record. I really feel like listening to Nirvana. What do you think? Recently I’ve been having these strange urges to listen to Nirvana. It was as though one day recently, something in my brain ‘clicked’ and I felt like I was approximately ten years younger and would enjoy listening to Nirvana in a very sincere and appreciative way.
It would be better if you were here because you are my friend.
You are my friend because I know that you love me and I know that I love you.
Read this post and more at: thatpaintingsnotsoblue
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Monday, March 26, 2012
one hundred eighty-five
I hate when I get like this.
When I sit here and start to miss you so much. How all our memories come back and I feel like you are with me again. Then I open my eyes and realize you’re not and you’re never coming back. And then I want to talk to you even though I have been trying so hard not too.
I cave in and become weak when I was starting to become strong.
Why do I do this? Because I love you. Only you and no matter what I do to try to stop I can’t. No matter how bad times got or how many fights we got into I never gave up on you but you gave up on me.
Why am I still holding on to something that’s not real anymore?
Read this post and more at: shellyfuls.tumblr
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When I sit here and start to miss you so much. How all our memories come back and I feel like you are with me again. Then I open my eyes and realize you’re not and you’re never coming back. And then I want to talk to you even though I have been trying so hard not too.
I cave in and become weak when I was starting to become strong.
Why do I do this? Because I love you. Only you and no matter what I do to try to stop I can’t. No matter how bad times got or how many fights we got into I never gave up on you but you gave up on me.
Why am I still holding on to something that’s not real anymore?
Read this post and more at: shellyfuls.tumblr
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Sunday, March 25, 2012
one hundred eighty-four
Happy birthday baby girl!
I hope you have an amazing day.
You are the best girlfriend anyone could ever ask for and are an incredible person. You’re amazing, kind, sweet, loving, caring, selfless, super smart and hilarious. You are my favorite person in the world and I cannot imagine myself with anyone but you.
Just texting you brightens my day.
To hear your voice makes my heart jump.
When you tell me you love me, my heart races and skips a beat.
I get butterflies because of you.
I hope you have a day that will match your amazingness.
I love you Lauren.
You’re my everything, wifey.
<3 Vince
Read this post and more at: alsoyes.tumblr
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I hope you have an amazing day.
You are the best girlfriend anyone could ever ask for and are an incredible person. You’re amazing, kind, sweet, loving, caring, selfless, super smart and hilarious. You are my favorite person in the world and I cannot imagine myself with anyone but you.
Just texting you brightens my day.
To hear your voice makes my heart jump.
When you tell me you love me, my heart races and skips a beat.
I get butterflies because of you.
I hope you have a day that will match your amazingness.
I love you Lauren.
You’re my everything, wifey.
<3 Vince
Read this post and more at: alsoyes.tumblr
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Saturday, March 24, 2012
one hundred eighty-three
To Bryan,
I have incredibly wonderful news that I would like to share with you. But I can’t. The incredibility and wonder of my news is seriously hindered by the fact that you might never know it. But it has still made me smile, and for a small moment, it took my attention away from the loss of you. In my eyes this is a wee triumph, but in my heart it only grows a foreign brand of sorrow.
C.
Read this post and more at: to-bryan.tumblr
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I have incredibly wonderful news that I would like to share with you. But I can’t. The incredibility and wonder of my news is seriously hindered by the fact that you might never know it. But it has still made me smile, and for a small moment, it took my attention away from the loss of you. In my eyes this is a wee triumph, but in my heart it only grows a foreign brand of sorrow.
C.
Read this post and more at: to-bryan.tumblr
---
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Friday, March 23, 2012
one hundred eighty-two
Dear boy-who-loves-long-epics,
It’s been quite a while. It feels like I’ve been to all ends of the world and back in the past few days. And yesterday, everything changed. It’s these moments, these small, insignificant moments that pass us by every second that change everything.
It was the moment when you saw me in that white dress. It was the moment before you kissed me. It was the moment when you fell asleep on my lap. It was the moment when you asked me not to leave. It was the moment when we fell in love all over again.
I honestly don’t understand how love works. One second we’re screaming and yelling and fighting and we spend the next second in a beautiful silence, tangled up in each other. Maybe I don’t know how love works. But I do know I never want to lose you.
Marry me someday?
Love,
Long-epics-make-me-sleepy.
See this post and more at: strawberry-express.tumblr
It’s been quite a while. It feels like I’ve been to all ends of the world and back in the past few days. And yesterday, everything changed. It’s these moments, these small, insignificant moments that pass us by every second that change everything.
It was the moment when you saw me in that white dress. It was the moment before you kissed me. It was the moment when you fell asleep on my lap. It was the moment when you asked me not to leave. It was the moment when we fell in love all over again.
I honestly don’t understand how love works. One second we’re screaming and yelling and fighting and we spend the next second in a beautiful silence, tangled up in each other. Maybe I don’t know how love works. But I do know I never want to lose you.
Marry me someday?
Love,
Long-epics-make-me-sleepy.
See this post and more at: strawberry-express.tumblr
Sunday, March 18, 2012
one hundred eighty-one
I know I’m picky as fuck and can’t make up my mind.
But I just want to be sure that its something that lasts. I’ve done that in the past by falling too quickly. Its quite easy to find something that will last a few weeks or so but to find someone that will put up with my moods, quirks and weird habits would be a heaven sent. I’m complicated but who isn’t.
So I’m saying:
Read more at http://crushesandloves.tumblr.com/
But I just want to be sure that its something that lasts. I’ve done that in the past by falling too quickly. Its quite easy to find something that will last a few weeks or so but to find someone that will put up with my moods, quirks and weird habits would be a heaven sent. I’m complicated but who isn’t.
So I’m saying:
- please be nerdy, I need someone to cosplay with and understand my Doctor Who, Firefly and anime references
- be a nightowl cause I have a problem with falling asleep
- understand my weird and irrational fear of death and the things I can’t control yet they still bother me
- give me attention, hugs, kisses and just hold me, cause as much as I pretend that I’m strong and don’t need anyone. I’m just putting up a front so I won’t get hurt. I really want you to break down the walls I’ve built around my heart.
Read more at http://crushesandloves.tumblr.com/
Saturday, March 17, 2012
one hundred eighty
Tuesday 6th of March 2012
Dear Alex,
I miss you, it’s been 1 year, 7 months and 25 days since you died. and even longer since I have seen you. Life is hard without you, I loved you so much and I still do. I hope you never forget that. I am dedicating this blog to you, so I can write to you.
I know your spirit still lives, even if it is only though the people around me.
You were taken so suddenly and I don’t really know how to deal with it. Apparently the grieving process takes about three years on average, this sounds stupid to me.
How can anyone put a number on it?
Some days are good, some days are bad, but everyday I am aware of how fragile life is and how easily it is to lose it.
I miss Josh too. I hope you boys are having a ball together, sinking lot’s of beer I’m guessing…
Anyway. I love you. I always will.
Missing you always
Bun
Xox
Read more at http://loveletterstoalex.tumblr.com/
Friday, March 16, 2012
one hundred seventy-nine
A letter from John Keats to Fanny Brawne.
I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - I have shudder’d at it - I shudder no more - I could be martyr’d for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that - I could die for you.
My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet - You have ravish’d me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often “to reason against the reasons of my Love.”
I can do that no more - the pain would be too great - My Love is selfish - I cannot breathe without you.
Yours for ever,
John Keats
I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - I have shudder’d at it - I shudder no more - I could be martyr’d for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that - I could die for you.
My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet - You have ravish’d me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often “to reason against the reasons of my Love.”
I can do that no more - the pain would be too great - My Love is selfish - I cannot breathe without you.
Yours for ever,
John Keats
Thursday, March 15, 2012
one hundred seventy-eight
A letter from Jack London to Anna Strunsky.
Dear Anna:
Did I say that the human might be filed in categories?
Well, and if I did, let me qualify — not all humans. You elude me. I cannot place you, cannot grasp you. I may boast that of nine out of ten, under given circumstances, I can forecast their action; that of nine out of ten, by their word or action, I may feel the pulse of their hearts. But of the tenth I despair. It is beyond me. You are that tenth.
Were ever two souls, with dumb lips, more incongruously matched! We may feel in common — surely, we ofttimes do — and when we do not feel in common, yet do we understand; and yet we have no common tongue. Spoken words do not come to us. We are unintelligible. God must laugh at the mummery.
The one gleam of sanity through it all is that we are both large temperamentally, large enough to often understand. True, we often understand but in vague glimmering ways, by dim perceptions, like ghosts, which, while we doubt, haunt us with their truth. And still, I, for one, dare not believe; for you are that tenth which I may not forecast.
Am I unintelligible now?
I do not know. I imagine so.
I cannot find the common tongue.
Large temperamentally — that is it. It is the one thing that brings us at all in touch. We have, flashed through us, you and I, each a bit of universal, and so we draw together. And yet we are so different.
I smile at you when you grow enthusiastic? It is a forgivable smile — nay, almost an envious smile. I have lived twenty-five years of repression. I learned not to be enthusiastic. It is a hard lesson to forget. I begin to forget, but it is so little.
At the best, before I die, I cannot hope to forget all or most. I can exult, now that I am learning, in little things, in other things; but of my things, and secret things doubly mine, I cannot, I cannot. Do I make myself intelligible? Do you hear my voice? I fear not. There are poseurs. I am the most successful of them all.
Jack
Oakland, April 3, 1901
Posted at talkativolive.tumblr.com
Dear Anna:
Did I say that the human might be filed in categories?
Well, and if I did, let me qualify — not all humans. You elude me. I cannot place you, cannot grasp you. I may boast that of nine out of ten, under given circumstances, I can forecast their action; that of nine out of ten, by their word or action, I may feel the pulse of their hearts. But of the tenth I despair. It is beyond me. You are that tenth.
Were ever two souls, with dumb lips, more incongruously matched! We may feel in common — surely, we ofttimes do — and when we do not feel in common, yet do we understand; and yet we have no common tongue. Spoken words do not come to us. We are unintelligible. God must laugh at the mummery.
The one gleam of sanity through it all is that we are both large temperamentally, large enough to often understand. True, we often understand but in vague glimmering ways, by dim perceptions, like ghosts, which, while we doubt, haunt us with their truth. And still, I, for one, dare not believe; for you are that tenth which I may not forecast.
Am I unintelligible now?
I do not know. I imagine so.
I cannot find the common tongue.
Large temperamentally — that is it. It is the one thing that brings us at all in touch. We have, flashed through us, you and I, each a bit of universal, and so we draw together. And yet we are so different.
I smile at you when you grow enthusiastic? It is a forgivable smile — nay, almost an envious smile. I have lived twenty-five years of repression. I learned not to be enthusiastic. It is a hard lesson to forget. I begin to forget, but it is so little.
At the best, before I die, I cannot hope to forget all or most. I can exult, now that I am learning, in little things, in other things; but of my things, and secret things doubly mine, I cannot, I cannot. Do I make myself intelligible? Do you hear my voice? I fear not. There are poseurs. I am the most successful of them all.
Jack
Oakland, April 3, 1901
Posted at talkativolive.tumblr.com
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
one hundred seventy-seven
I'm sorry I hurt you...
And the worst is always ignored.
But I don’t think I’ll ever forget what happened between us.
I’m sorry I hurt you. Tore you apart.
It probably sounds like the same shit and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I do want your ear. I won’t try to excuse myself except to say I was wrong in the way I dealt with you.
And I hope your regrets are less than mine...
Read more at http://theyuckytruth.tumblr.com/
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
one hundred seventy-six
Hi,
I think about you all the time. Sometimes I want nothing more than for you to show up at my door; I’d grab you by the front of your shirt and pull you in for a kiss. I miss… everything. I miss the way you smell, the roughness of your greedy hands, the way you fuss with your hair, your slightly crooked incisor. I still remember the way my heart swelled when I saw you smile for the first time. I would get that same feeling when I wrote you poems, when I drew forth contented sighs from you, when you glowed in my presence. Your happiness was always mine.
It still is. You’ve hurt me so much, but I still desperately wish for your happiness. I hope you turn around and ditch law and pursue your passion in writing. I hope you manage to get your own place again and find a girl that you love coming home to. I hope she will know how to touch you, that she remembers to always keep Inca Kola in the pantry, that she can make you smile even more broadly than I could.
I’m seeing someone else and he’s everything you’re not. He’s lazy and a selfish lover. He makes me laugh and forget about you though, and I know that I will never feel a shred of love for him. He thinks I’m timid and withdrawn. He probably thinks I’m a little boring, but that’s okay with me. He says I should embrace stoicism, that I was so broken up about you because I didn’t realize that nothing is truly mine.
I never asked for you to be mine; I knew I held no possession over you. I only asked to be yours.
Oh well,
Me
Read more at http://theressomethingaboutdanny.tumblr.com/
I think about you all the time. Sometimes I want nothing more than for you to show up at my door; I’d grab you by the front of your shirt and pull you in for a kiss. I miss… everything. I miss the way you smell, the roughness of your greedy hands, the way you fuss with your hair, your slightly crooked incisor. I still remember the way my heart swelled when I saw you smile for the first time. I would get that same feeling when I wrote you poems, when I drew forth contented sighs from you, when you glowed in my presence. Your happiness was always mine.
It still is. You’ve hurt me so much, but I still desperately wish for your happiness. I hope you turn around and ditch law and pursue your passion in writing. I hope you manage to get your own place again and find a girl that you love coming home to. I hope she will know how to touch you, that she remembers to always keep Inca Kola in the pantry, that she can make you smile even more broadly than I could.
I’m seeing someone else and he’s everything you’re not. He’s lazy and a selfish lover. He makes me laugh and forget about you though, and I know that I will never feel a shred of love for him. He thinks I’m timid and withdrawn. He probably thinks I’m a little boring, but that’s okay with me. He says I should embrace stoicism, that I was so broken up about you because I didn’t realize that nothing is truly mine.
I never asked for you to be mine; I knew I held no possession over you. I only asked to be yours.
Oh well,
Me
Read more at http://theressomethingaboutdanny.tumblr.com/
Monday, March 12, 2012
one hundred seventy-five
Dear Pineapple,
(Although you and Chocolate do make a very nice couple).
Love, Emily :)
In other news I’m kind of bummed that I didn’t run today, I definitely could have used it. But oh well, tomorrow is a new day. :)
Read more at http://polishedfitspirations.tumblr.com/
Sunday, March 11, 2012
one hundred seventy-four
I used to like him but not as much as I like you now.
Maybe 6 years from now you’ll come back and tell me you like me too like what he did.
And maybe 6 years from now I still like you but not as much as I like someone else.
Or maybe not.
Find more at http://kimiochi.tumblr.com/
Maybe 6 years from now you’ll come back and tell me you like me too like what he did.
And maybe 6 years from now I still like you but not as much as I like someone else.
Or maybe not.
Find more at http://kimiochi.tumblr.com/
Saturday, March 10, 2012
one hundred seventy-three
Hey, my love, you came to me like wine comes to
the mouth grown tired of water all the time, you quench my heart.
And love, you quench my mind. Your love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same.
True love travels, the miles, upon the wings of angels.
Love finds you, I swear it’s true, and I will love you forever.
Find this and more at http://pardonmyhyppe.tumblr.com/
And love, you quench my mind. Your love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same.
True love travels, the miles, upon the wings of angels.
Love finds you, I swear it’s true, and I will love you forever.
Find this and more at http://pardonmyhyppe.tumblr.com/
Friday, March 9, 2012
one hundred seventy-two
I am writing you this letter that you should never read. I am writing it
on the back of the postcards of you, sent from places in my mind.
I don’t smile for you or cry for you and I’ll find myself dead and gone the day before I live for you; but, you know, my pride is a dirty little liar: sniveling and quick to temper and clever enough to have me burden it willingly. Insidious, isn’t it? And terribly embarrassing, but, I assure you, acting as though I don’t…, will never…, have never…, every day is blush-worthy enough without letting it down to walk beside me. The pride I carry is a backbreaking shred, but it’s mine.
I do not need to tell you any of this, and you do not need to know.
I am not a stupid girl, but I am. I wonder what it’s like, like the rest of them, I suppose. I wonder how you’d fight and how you’d fuck and I wonder how my skin would crawl if I knew either. I wonder how my fingers would itch if I were given any chance to know you, how your hate makes you glow, or how your love makes you sick. I feel like a pervert. Dirty. Simple. I am not a stupid girl, but-oh-god-I am, and you are beautiful. How beautiful are you?
I will not bother you, at least, not enough to bother you. I will watch dull movies and listen to awful songs and ask you to smile for me, on occasion. You will forget and I will say, in serious jest, you are lucky I love you, boy (and you are). And I will smile because you have already become distracted. It doesn’t matter, in the scheme of things. It doesn’t matter that I get tired of it. It doesn’t matter. Not really. You ought to be grateful; grateful in the I-for-one-sure-as-Hell-am sense.
I am tearing every letter I wrote before. I am tearing the postcards sent from behind the closed doors in my mind. I am letting them burn.
Read more at http://attackofthechewenod.tumblr.com/
I don’t smile for you or cry for you and I’ll find myself dead and gone the day before I live for you; but, you know, my pride is a dirty little liar: sniveling and quick to temper and clever enough to have me burden it willingly. Insidious, isn’t it? And terribly embarrassing, but, I assure you, acting as though I don’t…, will never…, have never…, every day is blush-worthy enough without letting it down to walk beside me. The pride I carry is a backbreaking shred, but it’s mine.
I do not need to tell you any of this, and you do not need to know.
I am not a stupid girl, but I am. I wonder what it’s like, like the rest of them, I suppose. I wonder how you’d fight and how you’d fuck and I wonder how my skin would crawl if I knew either. I wonder how my fingers would itch if I were given any chance to know you, how your hate makes you glow, or how your love makes you sick. I feel like a pervert. Dirty. Simple. I am not a stupid girl, but-oh-god-I am, and you are beautiful. How beautiful are you?
I will not bother you, at least, not enough to bother you. I will watch dull movies and listen to awful songs and ask you to smile for me, on occasion. You will forget and I will say, in serious jest, you are lucky I love you, boy (and you are). And I will smile because you have already become distracted. It doesn’t matter, in the scheme of things. It doesn’t matter that I get tired of it. It doesn’t matter. Not really. You ought to be grateful; grateful in the I-for-one-sure-as-Hell-am sense.
I am tearing every letter I wrote before. I am tearing the postcards sent from behind the closed doors in my mind. I am letting them burn.
Read more at http://attackofthechewenod.tumblr.com/
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
one hundred sevety
Always and forever, I will love you.
You weren’t a fling for me; you changed my life.
You’re engagement rocked my world, and I will never be the same.
I remember sitting in the living room with my parents.
We told them together: "No, we aren't kidding. We aren't dating for fun. We are serious. This will last."
And even though it hasn't lasted as we thought it would, it will definitely last through the ages. We have declared it so by making a new life together.
Our love will be infinite because of him.
I will always love you - it is a commitment that will never die.
----
Write your own Love Letter and Submit it to Our Website
You weren’t a fling for me; you changed my life.
You’re engagement rocked my world, and I will never be the same.
I remember sitting in the living room with my parents.
We told them together: "No, we aren't kidding. We aren't dating for fun. We are serious. This will last."
And even though it hasn't lasted as we thought it would, it will definitely last through the ages. We have declared it so by making a new life together.
Our love will be infinite because of him.
I will always love you - it is a commitment that will never die.
----
Write your own Love Letter and Submit it to Our Website
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
one hundred sixty-nine
My darling Clemmie,
… you wrote some words very dear to me, about my having enriched your life. I cannot tell you what pleasure this gave me, because I always feel so overwhelmingly in your debt, if there can be accounts in love… What it has been to me to live all these years in your heart and companionship no phrases can convey.
Time passes swiftly, but is it not joyous to see how great and growing is the treasure we have gathered together, amid the storms and stresses of so many eventful and, to millions, tragic and terrible years?…
With tender love from your devoted,
W.
Winston Churchill to Clementine Churchill, January 23,1935
Posted by coddling coco on Tumblr
… you wrote some words very dear to me, about my having enriched your life. I cannot tell you what pleasure this gave me, because I always feel so overwhelmingly in your debt, if there can be accounts in love… What it has been to me to live all these years in your heart and companionship no phrases can convey.
Time passes swiftly, but is it not joyous to see how great and growing is the treasure we have gathered together, amid the storms and stresses of so many eventful and, to millions, tragic and terrible years?…
With tender love from your devoted,
W.
Winston Churchill to Clementine Churchill, January 23,1935
Posted by coddling coco on Tumblr
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
one hundred sixty-eight
Dear Future Wife
On nights like tonight, where we’re rushing to get ready before we meet my family for Christmas Eve dinner, please don’t get mad at me when I stop you from whatever it is that you’re doing, to kiss you.
Nothing in this world will be as important as you darling, and I plan on reminding you ever single minute, of every single day; even if those minutes are rushed. I’ll kiss you, look you in the eyes, tell you I love you, and help zip you into your gown.
Life will be perfect, we will be perfect, and Christmas will be our favorite time of the year because it’ll give us an excuse to be extra cute with one another. I can’t wait.
I just…I can’t wait to meet you, whoever you are.
Posted by sendusyourlove on Tumblr
On nights like tonight, where we’re rushing to get ready before we meet my family for Christmas Eve dinner, please don’t get mad at me when I stop you from whatever it is that you’re doing, to kiss you.
Nothing in this world will be as important as you darling, and I plan on reminding you ever single minute, of every single day; even if those minutes are rushed. I’ll kiss you, look you in the eyes, tell you I love you, and help zip you into your gown.
Life will be perfect, we will be perfect, and Christmas will be our favorite time of the year because it’ll give us an excuse to be extra cute with one another. I can’t wait.
I just…I can’t wait to meet you, whoever you are.
Posted by sendusyourlove on Tumblr
Monday, February 27, 2012
one hundred sixty-seven
I HATE you because I love you
I Hate you because I can’t forget you
I HATE you because EVERY TIME I put my head on my pillow I remember you
I HATE you because YOU still have my heart till now
I HATE you because I miss you so much but I can’t tell you
I HATE you because YOU make me think of you and myself every time
I HATE you because EVERY TIME I remember you make me feel NOTHING but happy I HATE you because EVERY TIME I remember you I smile
I HATE you because I know you don’t deserve me
I HATE you because YOU make me feel guilty
I HATE you because you make me confess…I still love you and I HATE YOU
I HATE YOU I HATE you because I know you need me and I can’t be there for you
I HATE you Because you make me feel confused
I HATE you because you wake me up to write this
I HATE you because you make me feel this
I HATE you because you make me write HATE
That’s why I HATE you
So, can you do me a favor and HATE me too…??
Posted by runxctrack on Tumblr
I Hate you because I can’t forget you
I HATE you because EVERY TIME I put my head on my pillow I remember you
I HATE you because YOU still have my heart till now
I HATE you because I miss you so much but I can’t tell you
I HATE you because YOU make me think of you and myself every time
I HATE you because EVERY TIME I remember you make me feel NOTHING but happy I HATE you because EVERY TIME I remember you I smile
I HATE you because I know you don’t deserve me
I HATE you because YOU make me feel guilty
I HATE you because you make me confess…I still love you and I HATE YOU
I HATE YOU I HATE you because I know you need me and I can’t be there for you
I HATE you Because you make me feel confused
I HATE you because you wake me up to write this
I HATE you because you make me feel this
I HATE you because you make me write HATE
That’s why I HATE you
So, can you do me a favor and HATE me too…??
Posted by runxctrack on Tumblr
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Saturday, February 25, 2012
one hundred sixty-five
This is when Spain is off fighting England.
SpainxFem!Romano
My dearest Lovina,
I write this from the heat of battle, we are resting now. I am sorry, my love, but I do not have much time to write you. I do not know if I will make it back to you.
If I do not return, my love, Please remember I fought till my last breath, I fought every moment for you. All I wanted was to return to you, my dearest.
Please do remember, I will love you even to my last breath, Even longer than that, Our love runs deeper than the water beneath my feet.
I knew from the first time I laid my eyes on you that you were the one I was to marry. Dearest Lovina, If I am to perish, please do marry another, do not greave to the point of death, For I have died for a great cause.
I love you more then I will ever love another, I have no reason to live if you are not living with me. I must make it back to see your face again.
My love, I am sorry to spoil the surprise for you, But when I return I am going to propose marriage to you. I am sure you knew it was coming, since I already asked your grandfather.
I am sorry, my love, I must go now, and do remember, I love you.
Your Love, Antonio Fernandez
Posted on Tumblr
SpainxFem!Romano
My dearest Lovina,
I write this from the heat of battle, we are resting now. I am sorry, my love, but I do not have much time to write you. I do not know if I will make it back to you.
If I do not return, my love, Please remember I fought till my last breath, I fought every moment for you. All I wanted was to return to you, my dearest.
Please do remember, I will love you even to my last breath, Even longer than that, Our love runs deeper than the water beneath my feet.
I knew from the first time I laid my eyes on you that you were the one I was to marry. Dearest Lovina, If I am to perish, please do marry another, do not greave to the point of death, For I have died for a great cause.
I love you more then I will ever love another, I have no reason to live if you are not living with me. I must make it back to see your face again.
My love, I am sorry to spoil the surprise for you, But when I return I am going to propose marriage to you. I am sure you knew it was coming, since I already asked your grandfather.
I am sorry, my love, I must go now, and do remember, I love you.
Your Love, Antonio Fernandez
Posted on Tumblr
Friday, February 24, 2012
one hundred sixty-four
You-
Sometimes I dream that we’re sleeping. You wake up for a moment and put your arm around me and just look at me. I wake up and without opening my eyes, curve my body into yours. Then I look up at you. We fall back asleep.
-Me
For more, please follow scared-to-say on Tumblr
Sometimes I dream that we’re sleeping. You wake up for a moment and put your arm around me and just look at me. I wake up and without opening my eyes, curve my body into yours. Then I look up at you. We fall back asleep.
-Me
For more, please follow scared-to-say on Tumblr
Thursday, February 23, 2012
one hundred sixty-three
My Love,
I got weirdly energized partway through the day. Like things were normal, but all of a sudden I could do so much more than I usually could. It was pretty cool. I didn’t write anything tonight (I’ve been writing for a few blogs… did I tell you I started that?) but I got a lot of stuff done for work and I made some adorable miniature cards that I don’t know what to do with.
But today overall was decent, I guess? I’m listening to some Noah and the Whale to calm down a bit before bed. With a short recess in which I waited around for a floor meeting just to hear information that was already emailed to me. Yeah, fuck you on that, RA. That was useless and I do not need that. I know when to leave, thanks.
But I shouldn’t get angry. Instead I may stay up a half hour more to listen to some more music. Calm and less sleep is better than angry and more. Good night, my love.
Yours always,
N
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I got weirdly energized partway through the day. Like things were normal, but all of a sudden I could do so much more than I usually could. It was pretty cool. I didn’t write anything tonight (I’ve been writing for a few blogs… did I tell you I started that?) but I got a lot of stuff done for work and I made some adorable miniature cards that I don’t know what to do with.
But today overall was decent, I guess? I’m listening to some Noah and the Whale to calm down a bit before bed. With a short recess in which I waited around for a floor meeting just to hear information that was already emailed to me. Yeah, fuck you on that, RA. That was useless and I do not need that. I know when to leave, thanks.
But I shouldn’t get angry. Instead I may stay up a half hour more to listen to some more music. Calm and less sleep is better than angry and more. Good night, my love.
Yours always,
N
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Wednesday, February 22, 2012
one hundred sixty-two
Let’s grow old together.
But wait. I don’t mean in the sense of simply growing old at the same time. I mean, let’s grow old together. Let’s enter each day of the rest of our lives together, and well, the old part, come what may. But whatever may come, let’s do this together.
I saw a couple in line together yesterday. They were together, that’s for sure. They were hand in hand and cheek to cheek. Even lip to lip as they waited. At first, I laughed at how uncomfortable they were making the senior just behind them. I think she was even blushing! But then it hit me—that used to be us. Maybe not so overtly physical in checkout lines and movie seats—but certainly physical, together. I want to be close to you again, in that same way, closer even.
I found an old letter yesterday. It was between the “file this” tray and the cabinet top. At first, as I read it, I felt like the senior in the checkout line, blushing at the sight of the uninhibited words penned on the pages. But then it hit me—that used to be us. Not “used to be” like the yearning for something lost, something almost forgotten, but the yearning for something that is familiar, a hands’ length away. A thing that is continually fragile, needing us both, but strong enough to hold us up when we can’t sustain each other or ourselves. I want more love letters. I want more of you. I want more of us.
Let’s grow old together, but before we do, let’s grow young now. Let’s enter each day of the rest of our lives hungry for each other like never before. Closer even than ever before. Kiss me all over without restraint, and I will reach for you. Write me endless love letters, and I will write you. Grow with me, and I will grow with you.
Written by L. B. on December 21, 2011
But wait. I don’t mean in the sense of simply growing old at the same time. I mean, let’s grow old together. Let’s enter each day of the rest of our lives together, and well, the old part, come what may. But whatever may come, let’s do this together.
I saw a couple in line together yesterday. They were together, that’s for sure. They were hand in hand and cheek to cheek. Even lip to lip as they waited. At first, I laughed at how uncomfortable they were making the senior just behind them. I think she was even blushing! But then it hit me—that used to be us. Maybe not so overtly physical in checkout lines and movie seats—but certainly physical, together. I want to be close to you again, in that same way, closer even.
I found an old letter yesterday. It was between the “file this” tray and the cabinet top. At first, as I read it, I felt like the senior in the checkout line, blushing at the sight of the uninhibited words penned on the pages. But then it hit me—that used to be us. Not “used to be” like the yearning for something lost, something almost forgotten, but the yearning for something that is familiar, a hands’ length away. A thing that is continually fragile, needing us both, but strong enough to hold us up when we can’t sustain each other or ourselves. I want more love letters. I want more of you. I want more of us.
Let’s grow old together, but before we do, let’s grow young now. Let’s enter each day of the rest of our lives hungry for each other like never before. Closer even than ever before. Kiss me all over without restraint, and I will reach for you. Write me endless love letters, and I will write you. Grow with me, and I will grow with you.
Written by L. B. on December 21, 2011
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
one hundred sixty-one
Can we just go ahead and end up together?
I’m not perfect. Neither are you.
But, we do pretty good together. I’d like to continue to pursue that challenge. I know that others will come along, but I don’t want to engage in the always-unknowing. I want you to be my known; the one that I get to know more and more each day.
Written by J. A. Busfield on December 28, 2011
I’m not perfect. Neither are you.
But, we do pretty good together. I’d like to continue to pursue that challenge. I know that others will come along, but I don’t want to engage in the always-unknowing. I want you to be my known; the one that I get to know more and more each day.
Written by J. A. Busfield on December 28, 2011
Monday, February 20, 2012
one hundred sixty
I followed you, because you asked me to come.
And then you started running away. I thought you were playing, that you wanted me to run after you, to catch you, to kiss you, to make love to you.
But every time I caught you, you wriggled out of my grasp and ran in another direction: sometimes faster, sometimes slower. But you always wore a sly grin as if daring me to miss out on the opportunity of maybe getting to see inside your soul.
I am tired of playing. I am tired of chasing. I want you more than I can say; but I’m winded with having to run after you over and over again without any time to enjoy satisfaction. I’m done.
Written by J. A. Busfield on December 27, 2011
And then you started running away. I thought you were playing, that you wanted me to run after you, to catch you, to kiss you, to make love to you.
But every time I caught you, you wriggled out of my grasp and ran in another direction: sometimes faster, sometimes slower. But you always wore a sly grin as if daring me to miss out on the opportunity of maybe getting to see inside your soul.
I am tired of playing. I am tired of chasing. I want you more than I can say; but I’m winded with having to run after you over and over again without any time to enjoy satisfaction. I’m done.
Written by J. A. Busfield on December 27, 2011
Sunday, February 19, 2012
one hundred fifty-nine
I won’t be scared – no matter what’s coming next.
You wanna know why?
Because, you’re here with me; and you are the best monster-killer I know.
Thank you for believing in my dreams and for killing the monsters that scare me.
Written by J. A. Busfield on December 27, 2011
You wanna know why?
Because, you’re here with me; and you are the best monster-killer I know.
Thank you for believing in my dreams and for killing the monsters that scare me.
Written by J. A. Busfield on December 27, 2011
Saturday, February 18, 2012
one hundred fifty-eight
I love it when you’re here to have coffee with me.
Thank you for choosing to be here; for spending time with me. I think you’re just about the coolest person ever; and, no, I don’t think you’re perfect, but you’re perfect for me. And I can’t seem to get enough of you.
Written by J. A. Busfield on December 26, 2011
Thank you for choosing to be here; for spending time with me. I think you’re just about the coolest person ever; and, no, I don’t think you’re perfect, but you’re perfect for me. And I can’t seem to get enough of you.
Written by J. A. Busfield on December 26, 2011
Friday, February 17, 2012
one hundred fifty-seven
We are starting a new year!
This year has been more up than down (finally!) & I have been so blessed with you & with our life together.
Last year favorites:
You brought so many things together for our family–finally clearing off the side porch, getting a new van, going with us to the art museum, buying the animals, finding a great house & doing all the work to buy it, clearing fences, teaching the kids how to ride crazy water slides at Emerald Pointe, helping the boys with their cub scout requirements.
The kids & I missed you at the beach. Next time you should come with us.
This has been such a full, wonderful year & I am so glad that we shared it together.
Written by K. B. on January 2, 2012
This year has been more up than down (finally!) & I have been so blessed with you & with our life together.
Last year favorites:
- together time–on the couch watching movies after the kid’s go to bed.
- present–the sheet music you bought me, so relaxing & pretty.
- new pet–hard to decide between the goat & the puppy, but the puppy smells better!
- big decision–buying a house.
You brought so many things together for our family–finally clearing off the side porch, getting a new van, going with us to the art museum, buying the animals, finding a great house & doing all the work to buy it, clearing fences, teaching the kids how to ride crazy water slides at Emerald Pointe, helping the boys with their cub scout requirements.
The kids & I missed you at the beach. Next time you should come with us.
This has been such a full, wonderful year & I am so glad that we shared it together.
Written by K. B. on January 2, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
one hundred fifty-six
He’s always been my best friend.
We always laughed and cried and shared together.
But then one night we took it further.
I believe every time he touches me I tremble for hours.
He is my friend. He is my lover. I trust him. I love him.
Thank you for the good things…
Written by J. C. on January 3, 2011
We always laughed and cried and shared together.
But then one night we took it further.
I believe every time he touches me I tremble for hours.
He is my friend. He is my lover. I trust him. I love him.
Thank you for the good things…
Written by J. C. on January 3, 2011
Friday, February 10, 2012
one hundred fifty-five
I went shopping tonight and passed by a display of Valentine's Day cards. I found one that was perfect for you. And then I found one that was a little more perfect for you, because it was more platonic. I stood there and debated which I should get you.
And as I stood there trying to figure out which would be the best option, a new and more honest thought dawned on me: neither was truly perfect, because they didn't express how I honestly feel about you. My heart sank as I accepted the truth: we aren't at a stage within our relationship that I can feel comfortable giving you any kind of Valentine's Day card. You've rejected me too many times and without some sort of positive reinforcement from your side, my heart tells me it's not ready to get slammed again - especially not during the holiday season. It would just be too depressing.
All of that said, I've still picked you to be my Valentine. Call me a glutton for punishment, I guess. In my deepest-darkest, most hopeful of spaces within my heart, I will daydream of us happy together. But in reality, I will write you a short note on plain card stock that will be sweet, and most importantly, to the point.
There's no trust for anything more than that.
Happy Valentine's Day.
And as I stood there trying to figure out which would be the best option, a new and more honest thought dawned on me: neither was truly perfect, because they didn't express how I honestly feel about you. My heart sank as I accepted the truth: we aren't at a stage within our relationship that I can feel comfortable giving you any kind of Valentine's Day card. You've rejected me too many times and without some sort of positive reinforcement from your side, my heart tells me it's not ready to get slammed again - especially not during the holiday season. It would just be too depressing.
All of that said, I've still picked you to be my Valentine. Call me a glutton for punishment, I guess. In my deepest-darkest, most hopeful of spaces within my heart, I will daydream of us happy together. But in reality, I will write you a short note on plain card stock that will be sweet, and most importantly, to the point.
There's no trust for anything more than that.
Happy Valentine's Day.
one hundred fifty-four
I miss her to mucchh! :(
I am away for a week and im not going to see her for ages. Love is the best emotion but then it is also the worst as it can hurt you so much. I know a week isn’t long at all, but going from every day seeing her beautiful face and watching her perfect smile and her glowing eyes to not seeing anything of her for a week.
I’m deeply in love with you and I miss you so fucking much ;(
Written by jammiiiii
I am away for a week and im not going to see her for ages. Love is the best emotion but then it is also the worst as it can hurt you so much. I know a week isn’t long at all, but going from every day seeing her beautiful face and watching her perfect smile and her glowing eyes to not seeing anything of her for a week.
I’m deeply in love with you and I miss you so fucking much ;(
Written by jammiiiii
Thursday, February 9, 2012
one hundred fifty-three
Thank you for giving me your phone number; you don’t know how many
times I’ve wanted to call and share with you, but I am not sure what to
say: “Remember me? The girl you just met the other day?”
And then I feel foolish for not already calling and for leaving things hanging in the way I have. We should go out for drinks. Teach me this area; share with me your love and passion for the locals. And yes, help me find my colors; help me choose the ones that will make me beautiful.
Written by J. A. Busfield
And then I feel foolish for not already calling and for leaving things hanging in the way I have. We should go out for drinks. Teach me this area; share with me your love and passion for the locals. And yes, help me find my colors; help me choose the ones that will make me beautiful.
Written by J. A. Busfield
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
one hundred fifty-two
“Your aura is incredible;
if you don’t have to go: don’t”*
I’m completely blindsided,
but welcome more, if you please.
My lower lip may not last for much longer,
and I am sure that my cheeks will burn off.
But I know that my smile is real, genuine – painless;
And I can feel the light shining from my eyes.
All that passion for life – tapped,
And ready to explode.
I’m still in shock;
Trying to figure it all out.
And then remind myself,
It doesn’t really matter.
(Except to say, thanks-
For seeing what I thought was gone.)
*Lyrics from Don’t Stop the Music by Rihanna
Written by J. A. Busfield
if you don’t have to go: don’t”*
I’m completely blindsided,
but welcome more, if you please.
My lower lip may not last for much longer,
and I am sure that my cheeks will burn off.
But I know that my smile is real, genuine – painless;
And I can feel the light shining from my eyes.
All that passion for life – tapped,
And ready to explode.
I’m still in shock;
Trying to figure it all out.
And then remind myself,
It doesn’t really matter.
(Except to say, thanks-
For seeing what I thought was gone.)
*Lyrics from Don’t Stop the Music by Rihanna
Written by J. A. Busfield
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
one hundred fifty-one
If you say something often enough it becomes true, right?
Even if it is only in my own mind.
My new goal is to tell myself everyday that I love you.
No matter what else is going on, no matter what you have done or how I really feel.
If our relationship is going to be wonderful, amazing & beautiful, I should start believing it! I do not mean to imply that I don’t believe we have something lovely right now. But can’t we always be better? So I will try to be more loving, acting it out even when I don’t feel it 100%.
Written by K. B. on January 19, 2012
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Even if it is only in my own mind.
My new goal is to tell myself everyday that I love you.
No matter what else is going on, no matter what you have done or how I really feel.
If our relationship is going to be wonderful, amazing & beautiful, I should start believing it! I do not mean to imply that I don’t believe we have something lovely right now. But can’t we always be better? So I will try to be more loving, acting it out even when I don’t feel it 100%.
Written by K. B. on January 19, 2012
Submit your love letter to jabsloveletters.com
Monday, February 6, 2012
one hundred fifty
All that came out of my mouth was, “thank you for taking care of me
this weekend;” but I wish you could have felt my heart swell as I
reflected on how your care of me, for me had touched me so deeply.
It was a moment when I wished there was a USB cord that would connect my heart to yours…but then, that would probably transfer more than you’d want to know.
Just know that it mattered to me…
The time we spent together was special.
You are special to me; and I can’t imagine ever wanting you more.
Written by J. B. on January 25, 2012
Submit your love letter to http://jabsloveletters.com
It was a moment when I wished there was a USB cord that would connect my heart to yours…but then, that would probably transfer more than you’d want to know.
Just know that it mattered to me…
The time we spent together was special.
You are special to me; and I can’t imagine ever wanting you more.
Written by J. B. on January 25, 2012
Submit your love letter to http://jabsloveletters.com
Sunday, February 5, 2012
one hundred forty-nine
A,
It is winter in the midwest, and we are all hunkered down for the snow. Thanksgiving and Christmas have passed and because we have lived here our whole lives all we can do is be prepared and wait. Winters in Michigan make everyone crave carbs, warm pajama pants and sleep.
You are working so hard now, and rarely are you home. When you are, I get the pleasure of watching you sleep. You sleep so hard and for so long. Dogs bark, TV channels change and still, you do not stir.
I am always restless, I am a tried and true insomniac, but that gives me time to study your face, to watch your pale skin pink at the cheeks, listen to your even breath rise and fall, rise and fall.
We’ve been married six months and still you make me nervous, still I can’t sleep, eat or keep my thoughts from coming back to you.
We want to stay married a long time, like your grandparents, who have just celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. I can see this happening...
Read more...
Written by K. W. on January 25, 2012
It is winter in the midwest, and we are all hunkered down for the snow. Thanksgiving and Christmas have passed and because we have lived here our whole lives all we can do is be prepared and wait. Winters in Michigan make everyone crave carbs, warm pajama pants and sleep.
You are working so hard now, and rarely are you home. When you are, I get the pleasure of watching you sleep. You sleep so hard and for so long. Dogs bark, TV channels change and still, you do not stir.
I am always restless, I am a tried and true insomniac, but that gives me time to study your face, to watch your pale skin pink at the cheeks, listen to your even breath rise and fall, rise and fall.
We’ve been married six months and still you make me nervous, still I can’t sleep, eat or keep my thoughts from coming back to you.
We want to stay married a long time, like your grandparents, who have just celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. I can see this happening...
Read more...
Written by K. W. on January 25, 2012
Saturday, February 4, 2012
one hundred forty-eight
Why can’t we just talk about it?
I know it is making you unhappy; now I am unhappy watching you mope around. If we could just spit it out, I would say sorry, you would say sorry, we could snuggle & agree to work through it together. Sadly, I know that will not happen. You never seem to want to talk about things & I am tired of always bearing the initiative.
How sad; now we will both be going our separate ways (if only for a few days) instead of enjoying our life together. You will be sitting at home feeling rejected & hurt while I am out trying to have fun with my friends...
Read more...
Written by K. B. on January 26, 2012
Comments: Category — I’m sorry.
Written during on of those silent disagreements that most couples have, some more than others.
I know it is making you unhappy; now I am unhappy watching you mope around. If we could just spit it out, I would say sorry, you would say sorry, we could snuggle & agree to work through it together. Sadly, I know that will not happen. You never seem to want to talk about things & I am tired of always bearing the initiative.
How sad; now we will both be going our separate ways (if only for a few days) instead of enjoying our life together. You will be sitting at home feeling rejected & hurt while I am out trying to have fun with my friends...
Read more...
Written by K. B. on January 26, 2012
Comments: Category — I’m sorry.
Written during on of those silent disagreements that most couples have, some more than others.
Friday, February 3, 2012
one hundred forty-seven
It’s cruel the tricks your memories can play.
You were in my dreams again last night, same as last week. These innocent, random dreams occur every so often, and every time it is so real, I wake up with my heart pounding, stomach churning, your smell-sound-feel still in my senses. Then I remember…and now the feelings change.
I haven’t actually seen you or heard your voice in years, but the cruel part of my brain holds the memories of you hostage, to throw in my face at random. And when those memories surface, the physical pain takes my breath. The cliche of a ”knife in the heart” comes to mind, but doesn’t even touch the reality.
Read more...
Written by K. F. on January 26, 2012
Comments: Partially inspired by the song ”Someone Like You” by Adele.
You were in my dreams again last night, same as last week. These innocent, random dreams occur every so often, and every time it is so real, I wake up with my heart pounding, stomach churning, your smell-sound-feel still in my senses. Then I remember…and now the feelings change.
I haven’t actually seen you or heard your voice in years, but the cruel part of my brain holds the memories of you hostage, to throw in my face at random. And when those memories surface, the physical pain takes my breath. The cliche of a ”knife in the heart” comes to mind, but doesn’t even touch the reality.
Read more...
Written by K. F. on January 26, 2012
Comments: Partially inspired by the song ”Someone Like You” by Adele.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
one hundred forty-six
I’m black, you’re white
I’m older, you’re younger
I hide behind the curtain, you take the stage
I think little of me, you say the greatest things about me
I rely on one color, you embrace the whole spectrum
So many other differences, to you they don’t matter
I would think the difference we have would set us worlds apart
But your smiles, your hugs, your encouragement, your prayers, your tears,
your LOVE always places us together as one.
You let me know straight up we have more alike than we have different.
Sista Girl, Thank You! You are like a big sister! I Love You!!!
Written by T. B. on January 18, 2012
Comments: This small piece was written to express how much the relationship of my ”sista girl” means to me despite the differences that could have kept us apart. Thankful for the many ”sista girls” out there who make the difference in another sista girl’s life.
----
Share your thoughts of love and appreciation at jabsloveletters.com
I’m older, you’re younger
I hide behind the curtain, you take the stage
I think little of me, you say the greatest things about me
I rely on one color, you embrace the whole spectrum
So many other differences, to you they don’t matter
I would think the difference we have would set us worlds apart
But your smiles, your hugs, your encouragement, your prayers, your tears,
your LOVE always places us together as one.
You let me know straight up we have more alike than we have different.
Sista Girl, Thank You! You are like a big sister! I Love You!!!
Written by T. B. on January 18, 2012
Comments: This small piece was written to express how much the relationship of my ”sista girl” means to me despite the differences that could have kept us apart. Thankful for the many ”sista girls” out there who make the difference in another sista girl’s life.
----
Share your thoughts of love and appreciation at jabsloveletters.com
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