#[Letters Unsent]

[libatterysucker]

These days all I can think about is send you a message and tell how much I miss you, how much I miss us.

But I can't. I can't do this to myself when all I did was worshiping you in every way, just to be discarded as if we were nothing, as if it as easy.

You wanted to stay friends, but I don't know if you just didn't want to feel guilty, or if you wanted a guarantee in case things go wrong. But I agreed anyways.

Every now and then you send me something, mostly shallow kind of conversation, like you don't really wanna talk, but you don't have anyone else to spill your shit. Or you just wanna have me wrapped around your finger, just in case you need.

I never took you as a vile kind of person, but you're braking me just as much as the others did, even if it's unintentional, unconscious.

I'll keep my head high for now. I've been nothing but great for you, and that's a thing to be proud of.

[willnotbcoming]

I seek warmth. Unlike the kind that my skin absorbs from a chair left soaking in a summer day’s sun. Nor the warmth spreading through my body after a long day of swimming; not that at the pit of my stomach after you had told me something I have been aching to hear. I seek warmth. The kind of warmth that stings my face upon entering a heated room after some time in the cold. The kind where I layer the covers until the discomfort of coldness fades. The kind that is adjustable, controlled. I seek warmth that remains consistent throughout a vacant winter. No matter how many times you seat yourself before a gas heater, you will always be met with the same warmth; you will go through cycles, the moon will shift in its phases; you will leave your first home, and fall in love with the wrong person at the wrong time. You will feel cold on the hottest day of summer. But the moment you return, it shall offer the same consistent heat. As long as the weather outside is cold, it will meet you with an everloving warmth. I seek this warmth, but I am trapped in a never-ending month of July; this warmth is not one that I seek, this warmth suffocates; it controls me with an unwelcoming shrug. I sit on this long solstice day, longing for a kind of warmth that only the coldest of winters can grant.

i seek warmth. excerpt from unpublished work: Letters to November 6.21.21

[hauntedgardenking]

I’m all spun up in vernal colloquialisms

Caught a draft pressing leaves along my shoulder

Burnt orange a mirror for all the cubists in my diner

And I’m tethered dusk with you silk quinacridone

Shape me in tunnels of right, so right

My desk is cluttered, I wrote a letter, pin-back smirk and I’ve never been so invested desert tarot readings. One moment it’s May, fragile steps soft through dewy grass, and the next it’s autumn orchards. I think I’d like to give you a postcard tumbling nicotine stained around next days intentions. Forgive me my math rock stutter all mouths wandering. One day I can toss this diary, a staple of bird’s nest in an empty home. They’re mostly barn swallows this time of year.

[mrspocksbeard]

In nine days.

Nine days until you arrive at the airport. It will be dark & cold in the desert but it won't matter, I'll still wear that little black dress and leather. This will be our real first impression & darling I want to knock you out.

I haven't smoked a cigarette since 2016 but the way you make me shake gives me cravings I forgot existed. That low laugh and the sound your voice makes when you say my name turns me into something I never thought possible. The thought of your lips against mine stops time & I can't wait to experience that stasis.

I've typed so many stories detailing the way you electrify every molecule of my body, the way in which my physical being is shaken to it's core at the mere thought of shutting the door where we'll be staying that week. They've long since been discarded but the electricity remains. It travels through me in waves, some days a bearable hum- but most a crushing flow amplified by the sound my phone makes when I know you're sending me a message.

Do I have the same effect? Do you lay awake at night wondering what it would feel like to share the same bed with me, to have my hands trace every part of you, memorizing your shape and learning the way you want to be loved? Do you feel the same cravings for me the way I crave to know every piece of you?

Tell me you do. Even if it isn't true. Because in nine days you arrive at the airport. It will be dark & cold in the desert but it won't matter, I'll still wear that little black dress and leather. This will be our real first impression & darling I want to knock you out.

[mammameesh]

Dear Love,

I've survived....

Happy 44 to me. I've tried to live some this year, I swear to you I have. But sacrifices are long, and summer is unending. But at the beginning of the day, I'm jostled awake by the same force that awoke me 365 days ago. But at 42 I was happy. I swear to you I will try to find it again.

I don't know what else to say.

XOXO Meesh

[hanaofapril]

Letters of September

I'm sick again. The stuffy nose, the fever, the unrelenting headache. I lay in bed awake at midnight, awake at dawn, awake some time in the afternoon and I think of you. I think of us being sick in bed, kicking one another out of it to get food or water or tea. Both of us fitting cozily in each other's arms. I look at my arms now wrapped around a pillow and realize that the years have taken away my body that once knew yours so well.

Jun, I'm so miserable without you that sometimes it feels like a punishment to continue living.

[intoxicatinginsanity]

It’s still odd growing to understand you more after all these years; especially when we couldn’t be further apart.

I knew how impactful this show was on you but at the same time; I was much to young myself to truly understand it either. Perhaps that’s why I never watched Evangelion then, despite how often you went on and on about it. I just saw it as something you liked, not as something you connected with on a deeper level whether consciously or subconsciously.

Either way, I’m glad I’ve seen it now.

I feel like I’ve gotten a glimpse at why you so often did the things you did back then. I wish I could have been someone to help you, but I barely knew how to help myself. I couldn’t look at your behaviors and actions through the lens I do now. You needed empathy, and to be seen. I couldn’t provide that; while I recognize that it wasn’t my responsibility to do so considering how things were then. It doesn’t change that I would have liked to.

All I can do is wish for your happiness. I hope whichever friends you find yourself surrounded with now, have the ability to be someone who can help you through all that pain. I hope you are no longer lonely old friend. Truly.

All my love, KC.

[shelivesingalaxies]

You don't get to decide what is trivial and what is important for people.

Thinking a concern is trivial and then ignoring them (or not making time for them deliberately) is something a stranger of no interest would do. Not something a caring friend would do.

And frankly, I am done dealing with immature shit and teaching people how to care.

It is not my job to open your views of the world.

When you decided to decide for me, you lost me.

Goodbye.

[libatterysucker]

I would like to move on like everyone does

But I'm starting to believe people are full of shit

"love yourself"

"you don't need anyone"

"I don't mind being single"

And maybe that's true for some

I mean, good for you

But it's okay to need someone

A family

A friend

A lover

Nothing, absolutely nothing can replace human connection

That's what we are made for

To be social

Why can't I crave for partnership? Love? Affection?

If that's what we biologically made for?

Remember, being a "open-minded" political person is a social construction too

[shadendesire]

Gods. Yes I hate having to explain why something hurts me. Or what is wrong. I hate more doing that when I already feel sick or shitty. But for the love of all things, please do not ask me that when you hurt someone I care about. Especially not when you do it in a way I already warned you about. Behavior that had gone on that I might accept for myself at one time, but refuse to allow you to inflict on others.

Yes I acknowledge my complicity in it. Yes I know I have to talk to the person, and risk losing a lot because of it. Because in many ways I am guilty for the pain you caused. Because I hate talking about what was done to me and how it affected me. But I thought you were different. I thought you understood and agreed. But you don’t. You won’t. You cannot be bothered to stand up to them.

So yeah. I laced up my boots and walked away from you for a time. Because yes he matters more. And until I can figure out how this effects us, I don’t want to hear or see you. The thought of it makes my skin crawl and my emotions roll.

Yes I know you will be told this proves what others said about me. But goddess you knew what them doing this exact same thing to me did for all those years. How it made me question myself, doubt myself, and worry if I was just like my sperm donor. Something I totally worry about all over again now.

You telling me, at least is your one saving grace. It’s the reason I am willing to even consider what may come with you. But you will have to give me time. And prepare for me to say, I cannot anymore. Especially with everything.

I will always want the best for you. But if this disease has taught me anything, it is that sometimes, what is best for others is not what is best for me. And I don’t have enough time, that I should worry about it.

[222heart]

[bloominginsilence]

You're going to meet someone who will love you like it's breathing.

[mammameesh]

Dear Suz,

It feels like Christmas a little bit more this year. Not much, perhaps enough.

I made ornaments for friends I haven't met. I can almost see your eye roll. But in a very small way, it's like you were here again. Making ornaments at a dinning room table. You arguing over my artistic style. I can almost hear mom telling us its time to clear the table for dinner for the umpteenth time.

You live, in my memories now. I'm doing my best to hold onto that. Christmas isn't Christmas without you. It actually can be quite lonely.

Small pieces of myself live now, in the great outside....and since you are a part of me I guess pieces of you do too? I don't know how it works.

I love you,

your Chelle.