#thingsiwanttosay

[awaiting-my-future]

Things I Want to say:

How are you? How is your son? Are you happy? Do you still have that light in your eyes? Have you found someone that shows you you deserve the whole word yet? Because you do. How’s your mom? How’s your brother and sister? Are you in quarantine? Are you staying sane? Are you still growing and learning about yourself? How’s your ex? Is he still wearing you down and crushing your happiness? Just so you know, I still think about constantly. I miss you. I miss the friendship, no matter how toxic we both made it. I was young, I was dumb, you were hurt and trying to figure out to heal. Have you learned to love yourself? Have you learned how to forgive yourself? I wanted to give you the world but couldn’t. I was in a bad place, fighting demons in the wrong ways. You taught me how to be me and grow but you also manipulated me and hurt me more than you would ever know. Again, it takes two, I’m at fault as well. I just want to know if you’re happy becuase you deserve it. You always have. You’ve had such a hard and terrible life and while some very good things came out of it, some bad things did to. Have you worked through everything? I don’t want to ask if you think about me becuase I’m sure the answer would be no and that I was crazy and bipolar and some of that was true but I think I scared you. I wanted something real and you didn’t but they ways you went about letting me know, hurt. The same time you asked me to stay with you, was the same time you had another girl over. Eventually, that other girl stayed in your life and I left but I still think about you. I just hope you’re okay and have found what you needed to. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. I’m sorry I was damaged and was my past but thank you for allowing me to learn about myself and allowing me to grow into who I am now. A better person, a better wife, a better everything. I regret that I found out you classified me as a drunk fuck who was obsessed with you becuase sometimes that’s the only thing in my thoughts. And knowing that’s what you thought all I was, hurts. I wish you would’ve communicated with me, like an adult. I wish I would’ve listened, like an adult. You broke my down my walls and taught me that I needed to build them up higher. My heart did not become hard becuase of this. I learned how love deeper and stronger and I came out a better person becuase of you. Thank you and I hope you’re okay and happy.

[cardi4k]

I thought about you making love to me.

[totheonewholeft]

It's a quiet ache, a ricochet silently tearing at the surface of my soul.

It’s been a while since you left. -m.r

[teilzeithass]

[fairytaleslost]

#you #thingsiwanttosay #missingyou

[innocent-unicornn-blog]

You were the brightest sun I’d ever seen

My thoughts at 1am

[mraller-blog]

Oneday(some thoughts I wanna say oneday)

From afar I saw this man and that was the time I believe in Love at first sight.

From Stranger We became friends, Turn into Lovers and suddenly become Stranger again.

Every moment I am with you my mind and heart are filled with happiness, Day by day we learn something new from each other, We learn to appreciate simple things and because of that we treasure those memories and you use it as base in our dream to become one.

Those laughter turn into Tears, Those sweet words turn to Painful words. The time we treasured has come to its end as I see you happy with your friends. I guess you just want to be happy.

As you replace me with your friends I decided to turn my back and let you happy. I thought that was the best decision I can make but it was not. I admit I still love you but don’t worry I will get over it one day.

[bohemiandreamingwanderer]

I miss you.

But it will pass, always does.

[thewolfworx]

. . . #dancer #dance #strongdancers #legday #legs #arms #blonde #grafitti #graffitiart #pose #pointeshoes #caughtonpointe #dancersofinsta #igfordancers #grace #beauty #thingsiwanttosay #cityofeastlondon #pentax #wolfworx (at WolfWorx Photography)

[totheonewholeft]

After you left, My heart started breathing Water

- i was in love with you. / -m.r

[elephant-houses]

Things I Want to Say: Five

I told Sean today about the fact that I always imagine my great-grandmother in heaven making meatballs for our former dogs whenever I miss her. He replied by telling me his aunt used to cook full meals for their dogs, and I suggested Pete and Morgan may have gravitated towards her in heaven then.

The thing that makes this different from that is that maybe this isn’t love. I don’t know that I’ve ever doubted that before. Everything always felt like such a tsunami of emotions that I assumed this was what all love felt like. But in comparing our relationship to every natural disaster imaginable, I’m not so sure anymore.

The reason these things are connected is that we never talked about what happens when you die. Which seems maybe like a morbid topic of conversation, but we never talked about anything. We were flat. We weren’t anything more than a piece of paper after I got better.

I don’t know if this is love. I don’t know if you can let it be.

[pastelbitchquotes]

Things I want to say to you but never will part 7

[elephant-houses]

Things I Want to Say: Four

If we had a song, it would not be Etta James. Etta James writes love songs. She writes the song I will dance to at my wedding. She sings of love that becomes tangible so long as you are in the same physical space of the other person. And even when you are not, that love, Etta’s love, connects you across oceans.

If we had a song, it would be Adele. It would be full of heartbreak and loss and lack of communication. It would be the words I sing as loudly as possible as the car vibrates each lyric against my hands clutching the steering wheel. It would be full, loud, harsh even in its softness, the ultimate contradiction.

If we had a song, maybe it would make this more real. Even if it was not the song of first dances or twirls under the moonlight. Even if it was Meiko and you at twenty-two and broken hearts from past loves. Maybe having a song would mean that on a December night, we would both look out a window, listening to the same thing, seeing the same moon, and in all of the cliche scenes of romcoms I’ve seen, feel the same things in that moment.

We don’t have a song. The closest we have ever come is Little Black Dress by Sara Bareilles which we listened to on repeat for weeks my junior year before you left me. If you read it, while you listen, you realize that that, too, is a song of lifting yourself back up after falling. It is a song of the self-sabotage I had become accustomed to. It is a song of a love that held too tightly, suffocated, and the loss of self after the loss of a love you didn’t even want in the first place. A love you thought would be kind to you, but never found the way.

I don’t want a song. But I want you, looking at the moon, while I watch the first snow, telling me about your day. I want a love that is not crushing, not encompassing, not even one of twirls under moonlight. Just a love made of sharing the simple tasks of a life worth living.