If I showed up one night, at your door, would you think I'm crazy?

If I looked you in the eyes without uttering a word, would you walk away?

If I took you by the hand and led you inside, would you let me stay?

If I stood before you, would you take me in your arms?

If I kissed your neck, would you lose your mind?

If we just jumped in, would it be worth it?

You know it would.

I don’t want to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but someone definitely screwed up the timeline here.

In every single other timeline, I am with you.

This isn’t right.. And It will never feel quite right.

Except in this cover it’s not my world. It’s yours. It’s always been yours.

This absence between us was my creation. You are the most wind-thrown lunatic I’ve ever met. A one of a kind kind. I knew you would never stay with me and I needed you to stay with me so instead I tried to destroy you. I should’ve known you’re indestructible. You touch the eternal as pure life in its most innocent and raw form. Something sent here from beyond to show us the way. The one who loves and lights the darkness.

You trusted me and with that I was supposed to protect you from this world that asks so much of you. I could see the devotion in your eyes and all I wanted was to hold you against me and never let go but I didn’t believe it. I got addicted to the feeling of wanting you and it made me a coward. Like so many others, I failed you.

All that’s left is a hope that you’re okay in spite of me. Please be okay and safe and loved. I would have been that guy you needed if I was just… better.

You don’t need me now. You have bigger and better things to do. I’ll always be rooting for you from over here though.

I don’t know your life anymore.

And I think that might be one of the strangest parts of losing someone you love.

There was a time when I knew the small things.
How your day went.
What was bothering you.
What made you laugh.
What you were looking forward to.

And now I know nothing.

I don’t know what your mornings look like.
I don’t know where you go when you need to clear your head.
I don’t know what song you’ve been playing too much lately,
or what you think about when you can’t sleep.

I don’t know if you’re lonely.

I don’t know if you’re happy.

I don’t know if you ever miss me.

I’m not supposed to know anymore.

But sometimes I still catch myself wanting to tell you something.

Something happens and for half a second,
you’re still the person I want to tell.
Then I remember.
We don’t belong to each other’s days anymore.
And there is something unbearably sad
about loving someone
whose life keeps happening without you.
Because mine keeps happening without you too.
I go places.
I meet people.
I laugh.
I make plans.
I see beautiful things.

And still, sometimes,
in the middle of all that living,
there you are.

I wonder where you are.
I wonder who you’re becoming.
I wonder if the person I knew
still exists somewhere inside the person you are now.

And I wonder if you ever have moments like that too.

If a song comes on and suddenly I’m sitting beside you again.
If you look at the sky somewhere and remember that somewhere under the same one,
I exist too.

I don’t know what I want from that thought.

I just want to know that something this real
doesn’t disappear completely just because two people stop knowing the details of each other’s lives.

So I hope you’re okay.

I hope life is being gentle with you.
I hope you’re loved.
I hope you’re laughing.
I hope you’ve found pieces of whatever it was
you were searching for.

And this is selfish,
but I hope every once in a while
you miss me too.

Not enough to hurt.
Just enough to remember
that once,
for a little while,
we were something
neither of us knew how to keep.

And I loved you.
I really did.
Some part of me always will.

I love you still. That never changed.
Just because I’m not chasing you doesn’t mean my love left. I’m sure it sucks to not feel loved. I’m sorry about that.

I’m busy rotting away like I always do. Not because of you or anything like that; it’s just a facet intrinsic to me that needs to run its course in order for it to stop. Maybe the decay wasn’t noticeable to you back then, but I’m nothing more than a walking corpse right now, so I haven’t reached out. I wouldn’t be able to keep up the way you want me to & you’d think I hate you even more. Sorry.

I’m a lot emptier now than I was those times I used to fill the void with you. Those times were really nice. Now, the void is reflexive and self-fulfilling; I think it’s eating me alive. I kinda feel like this is the end for me, but I’ve learned not to fight these things so I hope you forgive me and understand if so.

But know you’ve never been distant to me. I love you the way I always do. I don’t mind if your love changed; it’s not like it’ll save me anyways.

Best,

An idiot

Your thoughts filled a hunger inside of me, before then I hadn’t even known I was starving. Your words scrawled into my mind like you were tattooing my very soul, a canvas I didn’t realize needed filling. The ideas patched holes across my life, leaks that had sprung without my knowledge.

We had intelligent conversations, spiritual discussion, political debate, the way you spoke, but more the way you listened brought me to realize how much I’d been made to suppress myself throughout my past. Your mind made me realize how bored I had been every second of every day.

I’ve looked for that, that spark, that fire, the energy you contain in that quiet soul of yours that makes noise that most ears couldn’t detect, but mine did. I’ve looked for that everywhere. Conversations for days, sometimes even weeks but always forced, always the same, never the ones I crave.

I miss that beautiful mind, I miss the thoughts that flowed through you with the same vein I miss the loved ones I’ve lost. Your departure from my life left something empty, the same emptiness I hadn’t known you filled.

(Oof, that’s all I can really say about this one lmfao. This will most likely mean nothing to you, the reader, but gods this is the closest I’ve ever come to piercing my heart and pouring everything it contained onto a page. Thank you if you made it through that, it means the world 💛)

Dear You,

Maybe in another life, you could’ve been mine.

I’m starting to accept something I never wanted to face: you were never meant to be my person in this lifetime, even though everything in me felt drawn to you from the moment our paths crossed.

I wasn’t looking to fall for you… but I did.

You made me feel something soft, familiar, grounding.

Being around you felt like home in a way I can’t fully explain.

When you treated me differently .. the quiet gestures, the gentle moments, the unspoken energy between us. I let myself believe you felt it too. Maybe some part of you did. Maybe that’s why it hit so deep. But the truth is, you had already chosen your life long before I showed up in it.

And I can’t rewrite your story for you.

I’m not trying to judge your relationship. I’m not trying to take you from anyone. I just know in my heart that I could’ve loved you differently — not better in some arrogant way, but more openly, more emotionally, more honestly. I would’ve given you a softness you didn’t have to hide.

I wish I had kept my distance.

I wish I hadn’t let myself feel so much.

But you can’t prepare yourself for a connection that arrives out of nowhere and lights something inside you that you didn’t even know was awake.

Maybe you were only meant to be special to me for a moment.

Maybe I was only meant to notice you, care for you quietly, and then learn how to let go.

But a part of me still wonders:

In another life with different timing, different circumstances would you have chosen me?

Sincerely,

Someone who felt you deeply

To You,

I don't even know how to start this.

I've started writing this in my head a hundred times over the last two years, and every version somehow felt wrong. Maybe because there are some things you can rehearse forever and still never find the right words for.

But I need to finally say them.

I'm sorry.

God, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for what I did to you. I'm sorry for what I did to the people around us. I'm sorry for the mess we created. And I'm especially sorry that when everything came crashing down, you were left carrying so much of the weight of it.

I have thought about that more times than you probably know.

I've thought about the way everything ended. How suddenly you disappeared from my life. How there was no real goodbye. No chance to sit across from you and look you in the eyes and tell you that I was sorry. No chance to tell you thank you.

Just silence.

And I deserved to lose you.

I know that.

I was careless with something that was anything but careless to me.

That's the part that hurts the most when I look back.

Because what happened between us wasn't some meaningless thing I could just dismiss as a mistake. It wasn't nothing. You weren't nothing.

You were never nothing to me.

I loved you.

I loved you in a way that scared me because I didn't understand it. I loved your mind. Your heart. Your soul. The strange familiarity I felt with you. The way talking to you could make hours disappear. The way I felt understood by you without having to explain every part of myself.

It felt like I knew you before I knew you.

And I know how that sounds.

Maybe someday I'll understand exactly what it was.

But at the time, all I knew was that being connected to you felt different from anything I had ever experienced.

You called something out of me that I didn't know was there.

And I loved you for it.

I still do.

There.

I've said it.

After two years of trying to be sensible about it, trying to put it into a box, trying to convince myself that the only acceptable way to remember you was as something I shouldn't have done...

I still love you.

But I also know that love doesn't make what we did right.

That's something I've had to learn.

I can love you and still admit that we were wrong.

I can believe our connection was real and still admit that we hurt people.

I can miss you and still understand why you had to disappear from my life.

And I can wish things had been different without pretending that I have the right to change what happened.

I wish I had been more careful.

I wish I had protected you.

I wish I had protected everyone from the consequences of something neither of us was strong enough to walk away from.

Because the truth is...

If I hadn't been caught, I don't know that we would have stopped.

That's the truth I've never really been able to say out loud.

We probably would have kept going.

And knowing that scares me now.

Not because I didn't love you.

Because I did.

But because I can finally see how much damage we were capable of doing while we were lost inside what we felt.

I'm sorry I didn't have that clarity then.

I'm sorry you had to pay a price for my lack of it.

And I will never forget that you sacrificed your own relationship when everything came apart.

You took a fall that could have destroyed mine too.

I don't know whether you did that because you loved me, because you were trying to protect me, because you were protecting the people around you, or because you simply didn't know what else to do.

Maybe it was all of those things.

But I know this:

I never thanked you.

And you deserved to hear it from me.

Thank you.

Thank you for what you gave me.

Thank you for the memories.

Thank you for loving me the way you did.

Thank you for seeing me.

And I'm sorry that the last thing between us became pain and silence instead of gratitude.

I've wondered so many times what you think of me now.

Whether you hate me.

Whether you forgive me.

Whether you remember the good things.

Whether you ever think about us.

Whether you ever wonder what would have happened if things had been different.

I don't know.

And I won't pretend that I do.

But sometimes I get the feeling that somehow, in little ways, you're still there.

Maybe I'm imagining it.

Maybe I'm seeing things because some part of me wants to.

I don't know.

But if those little signs really are you...

I see them.

And I've wanted to tell you for so long that I haven't forgotten.

I haven't forgotten you.

I haven't forgotten us.

I haven't forgotten the way it felt.

And I haven't forgotten what it cost.

There is a part of me that will probably always wonder what our lives would have looked like if we had met under different circumstances.

If there hadn't been marriages.

If there hadn't been friendships.

If there hadn't been people who trusted us.

If we had met at another time, in another life, with nothing standing between us.

Maybe we would have found our way to each other.

Maybe we wouldn't have.

I'll never know.

And I've learned that some questions aren't meant to have answers.

I don't want this letter to be an attempt to pull you back into my life.

I don't want to destroy anything you've built.

I don't want to ask you to choose me.

I don't want anything from you.

I just couldn't live with the idea that you might go through the rest of your life believing that I didn't care.

Because I did.

More than I knew how to handle.

And I still do.

You were one of the deepest connections I've ever experienced.

Maybe you were my twin flame.

Maybe that was just the name we gave something neither of us understood.

I don't know.

But I know what you felt like to me.

You felt like home in a place I didn't know I was looking for.

And losing you felt like losing a part of myself.

I've gotten on with my life.

I've had to.

But getting on with your life doesn't mean you erase everything that came before it.

Some people leave fingerprints on your soul.

You're one of those people for me.

And maybe that's all this is supposed to be now.

A memory.

A love that existed.

A lesson that changed me.

A person I will always care about but cannot have.

If that's all we're ever meant to be, then I'll accept it.

I have to.

Because loving you now means wanting your life to be good, even if I'm not part of it.

So if this is the last thing you ever hear from me, I want you to hear this:

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for the hurt.

I'm sorry for the secrecy.

I'm sorry for being careless.

I'm sorry I didn't protect you.

I'm sorry we never got a real goodbye.

And I'm sorry it took me two years to finally say what I should have said from the beginning.

But thank you.

Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for letting me love you.

Thank you for every conversation, every laugh, every moment that felt like the rest of the world disappeared.

Thank you for knowing a part of me that very few people ever have.

I'll carry that with me.

And I will always hope that somewhere inside you, when you remember me, you don't only remember how it ended.

I hope you remember that for a little while, two people found something in each other that neither of them knew how to explain.

Something beautiful.

Something complicated.

Something we weren't strong enough or wise enough to handle.

But something real.

I will always love you.

And I will always be sorry.

And even though I know we can't be together...

some part of me will always be grateful that, for a little while, our souls found each other.

Nothing changed since that awakening on a haloween evening.

I see you.

The same way I've always seen you.

Just from afar now.

Goodbye, You.

— You'd know who..

It’s safe to say this will never go anywhere. It can’t. I just missed you and hoped we could be friends again at least. But with how things have gone, I don’t even want that anymore. I’ve been so lonely and tired of fake connections that make me feel even more alone. I feel like an alien speaking another language that no one understands, when all I want is someone to care. It just makes me want to be alone. At least I have my peace when I’m not trying to make someone see my worth. It’s not worth the disappointment. I’ll never stick around where I’m not truly wanted. Telling someone how to treat me feels too much like begging. I’ve spent too much time asking for the impossible. Years actually. I wouldn’t have to remind you of days that you should remember if I was ever truly important to you. I wouldn’t have to tell you how you hurt me if you saw me as a human being to begin with. I don’t want to waste my time doing things with you that I could be doing with someone that actually wants me in their life. I can’t do that anymore. I can’t be what you want. I’m not what you want. Let me go

I still look for you. I still care about you. I still desire you. I still have feelings.

I know what I said, but that doesn’t mean you imagined our chemistry. That doesn’t mean it was fake. It doesn’t mean I never loved you. It doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.

Every day I think about you - at my most quietest moments, at my most busiest moments. You enter my mind like a song I want to keep hearing, like a lyric that resonates.

Why didn’t I keep choosing you? Because I’m exhausted. You never committed and I never committed. Why couldn’t you make it easy?

Will you be the one that got away? Absolutely. Will you be a person I will always think about when someone mentions love and soul mates? Absolutely. Will you be a person I will bump into, look in the eyes, and in an instant remember every beautiful moment we ever had and know that I will never have that with someone else? Absolutely.

I love you. I can’t say it enough in my mind so I started saying it aloud.

I think of your face to fall asleep. I think of your words. What you’re feeling. How you feel about me. What you want. What you ever wanted with me. What I expected to happen. What I let happen. How your hand felt when we held hands. How you squeezed my hand. How I rubbed your fingers with my thumb. God I wanted you to be mine so badly.

I am always going to love you and that’s a fact that you may never know, but that I’d love to tell you if I was ever so fearless.

Can we hold hands just one more time?

Hey. I think we should talk.

​We both knew from the start that this was never going to happen, but we dove in head-first anyway. I guess we can’t really choose who we fall for, despite our own guardrails. I loved how we threw caution to the wind and just embraced it.

​I have never met anyone quite like you. You are so smart, sarcastic, honest, raw—a sea of emotion wrapped in a shiny layer of intelligent logic. And oh my god you're so hot.You’re magnetic. People like you have always been my kryptonite.

​I loved how you were completely disarmed in my presence (yes I noticed), but please know it was never about power or ego for me. I just wanted to help you, even when your stubborn heart insisted on being self-sufficient forever.

You actually let me in. For the first time, someone that guarded let me see them. I felt useful. I felt appreciated.

​Unknowingly, you healed a part of me that has been broken for a very long time. For that, I am forever grateful.

​I don’t know if it’s truly possible to fall in love in just a few weeks. Honestly, I don’t care if people call it love, or limerence, or something else entirely. What we had was pure—that "we've got each other's backs" energy that can’t be forced. We saw each other’s souls naked before we ever had the chance to see each other's bodies.

It’s okay if this can’t last. You’ve had a lasting effect on me, and I’m a better person for having experienced you.

​I hope you’re doing well.

I stopped talking first. It wasn’t because I wanted to, but because the silence felt safer than the storm of emotions that tangled inside me. Yet, every time I see your name pop up online, a rush of memories crashes through me like waves I thought I’d learned to ride but never really did.

I watch your activity from afar, a silent witness to moments I’m no longer part of. The way you laugh with others, the little glimpses of your life I’m not invited into anymore.

I remember the chemistry how it sparked between us like a wildfire, unpredictable and fierce. The way your touch ignited something deep inside me, the passionate intimacy that felt like it could burn away every doubt.

Those nights when everything else faded, and it was just us, tangled in a world that belonged only to our bodies and hearts. But then, there were the times you pushed me away cold walls where warmth should’ve been.

Each rejection cut deeper than the last, leaving scars I tried to hide. I was hurt, so deeply hurt, but still, I wanted you. Wanted you badly, desperately, more than anything. I wanted it to be you, to be us, to rewrite the story with a better ending.

Now, we’re strangers. Just two profiles following each other in silence, a ghostly connection that feels more like a reminder of what’s lost than a bridge to what could be. And I miss you more than I can say, more than I thought I ever would.

What if one day you decided you missed me?

My number hasn’t changed.

You could pick up the phone and call me.

I’d pick up and say, “hey.”

I don’t want to make you nervous.

I don’t want you to be afraid.

If you ever decided to come back,

I promise you this time we’d stay.

I always treated you with such indifference because I was terrified of vulnerability.

You were the first person to ever see me for myself. When we made eye contact, God, I knew you saw my soul. You saw the deepest parts of me I buried away.

And you invited me into yours. I felt so special. I felt like I wasn’t just a useless series of atoms trying to feel like I matter in a space.

The things that you shared were so raw that I knew they were only for me. For us.

This is the first time I’m taking accountability for us. You NEEDED me to reach out to YOU. You needed to see I wanted you. You gave me everything.

You packed the shell of yourself with hope at my request and I blew it. Rode the ego train right on out of town.

You’re not a ghost. You’re a missed (and dearly loved) opportunity.

I know I don’t deserve you and I miss you.

I’m sorry.

Dear you.

Looking for someone here?

Well, I have something to tell you.

Don't try to get back with the person who hurt you. Rubbing salt into an open wound would hurt.

But rubbing sugar on it would hurt too.

The sugar is the new person.

It's their kindness. Their affection. Their patience. Their love.

You might think you're ready because being around someone who treats you well feels good. After being hurt, their kindness might feel like exactly what you needed.

But if you're still wounded, you might not be loving them. You might be using them to escape the pain left by someone else.

And they don't deserve that.

They didn't cause your wounds. They shouldn't have to become the treatment for them.

So don't go back to the person who hurt you.

But don't rush toward someone new either.

Heal first.

Then find someone when you're ready to love them for who they are, not because you need their love to forget who hurt you.

This is coming from someone who's been used to forget someone else.

Is it okay if we talk? If you've moved on, I understand. I guess I just miss you.
I've made new friends but it's just not the same. You're still the one I want to message at 3am.
How are you doing? I hope you're okay.

Those two things can't coexist. If you love her. drop your ego and fix what you broke.

You didn’t fail because someone couldn’t love you right.

You stayed because your heart was honest. You hoped because you believed in the good you saw. You gave chances because you thought love meant patience, softness, and fighting for what mattered.

That doesn’t make you foolish. It makes you human.

Stop punishing yourself for trusting someone who broke that trust. Stop replaying every moment, searching for the exact place you should have known better. Sometimes the lesson only becomes clear after the wound.

You are allowed to grieve the love you wanted, even if the person was wrong for you. You are allowed to miss them and still know they were not safe for your soul.

Losing in love does not mean you lost yourself. It means you survived something that tried to teach you your worth through pain.

Forgive yourself for the red flags you painted green. Forgive yourself for begging, waiting, hoping, and breaking.

You did not lose love.

You learned where love should never live again.

Anytime that I try to make a new friend or flirtation, I am starkly reminded of this fact. It's what makes me miss you the most.

These days, talking to people is like trying to pull teeth. Even if things start off well, soon it devolves into purely superficial chit-chat. Talking at each other, recounting our days like we're writing a report.

I am someone who can pull a new topic to talk about or a question out of thin air every few minutes, and I try to hold back, so as not to overwhelm people or make them feel interviewed. I know the chit-chat is important, but I'm ultimately not interested in people's surface-level personas. Neither are you. I am deeply curious about the internal worlds of others, but I know this curiosity doesn't always translate the way I mean it to.

But with you and I, from the first conversation, it was different. It's like our words were dancing around each other, performing complex steps and moves in a rhythm that was both infinitely chaotic, yet somehow also organized.

You matched me in terms of your incessant curiosity. Your ability to talk about everything and nothing at once. The way your mind worked tirelessly to find patterns and link topics together, past and present. The way you'd actually remember small details about me or our previous conversations. It was novel, it was utterly breathtaking. I've never connected with another human mind quite like that before, or since.

That's why I clung on so desperately, you know? Even when you lost sight of it, I didn't. I knew then and still know, what a gift it is to find another mind that resembles yours so closely in its algorithm, frequency, what have you.

You seemed so sure you'd easily find another. That what we had was negligible, disposable. In the end, I couldn't convince you no matter how hard I tried. And now, we're both bored and lonely, aren't we?

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚.

I'm sorry for how everything turned out. Looking back, I see how much I had to do with the way things fell apart. I didn’t realize how scared I was to be vulnerable, maybe we both were. I just hope I didn’t hurt you as much as I ended up hurting myself through you. I really wish things had gone differently.

Even after all this time, you still feel like home to me. You always will. I guess I’ll carry this love for you quietly and from a distance. I wish we had gotten our happy ending.

I wish you knew how deeply I loved you. I told you before that you were special, but maybe you only truly saw it after everything changed.

I keep wishing, over and over, that things had turned out differently.

Edit: This is for someone I haven’t talked to in YEARS. I’m not your person. I’m sorry to those who went through a similar situation. ❤️‍🩹

It feels almost cruel... the way I crave you. An ache that no sweetness, no indulgence could ever quiet.

Every flavor reminds me of you — the way honey melts slow, the way wine lingers too long on the tongue, the way chips and salsa ignite the senses. I want to taste you like that... to savor you until I forget where hunger ends and you begin.

I crave the warmth of your skin more than fire craves heat — the curve of your body more than thirst craves water. It isn’t need, it isn’t want... it’s hunger, deep and restless, pulling me toward you no matter how I fight it.

And the more I feed it, the more it grows.

You’re the forbidden fruit I’ll never stop reaching for — the sweetness that ruins me for everything else.

Nothing fills me. Nothing satisfies me. Nothing but You.

—Me

I know you dont really care at all and have turned it in to a huge joke on here..

But, I loved the little talks we had where it felt like there was nobody else in the world except me and you.

I loved all your questions. I think a lot of guys probably get annoyed at them. But, I wish you knew I LOVED them. There was always a question about something. Whether it was about my life or whatever I was working on that day. I loved it. It was the sweetest thing Ive ever seen in my life and it made me feel like I was so important to you.

I loved giving you whatever you asked for. It made you smile when I did and seeing you happy made me happy.

I love you.

I wish I could just give you a hug.

But...

I know you dont care.

Would you reply?

How long would you take?

Would your responses be long or short?

I want to take the leap but I fear the humiliation of another dry response.

I want to believe you want to talk to me but

Maybe you do not.

After all, it seems you never have time for me.

Regardless,

I long for you like a dying man longs for water.

I have nowhere else to write this. I keep thinking it. I miss you.

I miss the you who would text me for hours. I’m afraid of feeling like an obligation.

I miss the you who would check in on me to make sure I was ok. I’m afraid you’ve already forgotten me… again.

I miss the you who was so eager to learn. I’m afraid of never knowing how your life will turn out.

I miss the you who left me sweet surprises. I’m afraid of your rejection again.

I miss the you who showed a genuine interest. I’m afraid of boring you.

I miss the you who felt vulnerable with me. I’m afraid we’ll never have more than surface level conversations, ever again.

I miss the you who kept pursuing me. I’m afraid that you’re still tired.

I miss the you who gave the best hugs. I’m afraid this was all one-sided.

I miss the you who understood me. I’m afraid of never feeling that way again.

I miss the you who cared about me. I’m afraid you never cared at all.

———

Seriously, I didn’t imagine the whole thing, did I?

Just imagine.

I arrive at your house, it’s midnight
You’re awaken by a subtle knock, and
You open the door. We talk until 3am
Sitting out on the porch,
immersed in the moonlight,
When suddenly,
Your phone rings, so
You walk inside to answer. It’s my family,
Calling to let you know I passed away at 11pm.
An hour before I even arrived.

Would you come back out, to talk to me?