#Dear You

[ihavetheblues96]

Dear C.E,

I love you. I wanted us to work. I wanted my initials to become C.E as well. I’m sorry for my part in this. You were not perfect and had faults, but so do I. I hope you think of me. I hope you love me too. I hope one day we can forgive each other because I miss my best friend. I will pray for you even if you don’t believe it helps. The pain and anger I feel will go away but my love will never fade. I hope that you find happiness. I hope you can see you are special. I just wanted to let you know you’re not a bad person. You will never be alone even if you feel like it. I’m sorry for making you feel alone and for my part in hurting you. We have two different hurts but we both lost each other. I hope you feel this loss like I do, so I know you did love me. That’s selfish I know but that’s who I am. All I am I think. I love our life together and i love our love. Maybe one day this will find you and you’ll know it’s for you. You will grow into a great man one day and my heart will always break when you’re with someone new, but I will always want you to be happy. You taught me a lot and I hope I did the same. Thank you for your love. Thank you for our children. Maybe one day when we aren’t so broken we can make things work. I wanted to grow with you, to age with you and make mess in our kids homes with you lol. I never wanted us to stop laughing. I never wanted to be apart but I was selfish in sharing my thoughts. I was selfish with my actions and so were you. You were greedy for more of me but I was scared of giving you the rest of me just to have you continue to hurt me. I couldn’t give you everything because I felt I would have nothing left. I was selfish you’re right and I’m sorry. I hope we can be better than we are and I hope we can make things work. I hope you know I love your laugh, heart, mind and soul. Toes and elbows. You will always be my always and forever. I’m saying goodbye so you can know your worth and so I can find mine. I hope one day we will laugh together again. I hope one day our heart will heal. I want you to be happy even if it hurts me. I will be the villain in your story but you will always be the one who made me love. I prey you’re always safe and that one day you find what you deserve. I will always be here for you. I wish i could fit everything in here but I can’t. I hope one day you find this cause I’m too scared to show you. I love you bb.

-sincerely, Dollface

[yourlovelyspace]

So everything goes fine 💝

[lilblueorchid]

Are you somewhere in this endless blue sky?

Third Huevember! Still on time,,, for now. If I had to pick my favorite game ever, it would be Tales of the Abyss. I learned english back in 2011 specifically for this game. This story has marked me in ways that none other did. It’s a core part of who I am as a storyteller. 

The line is from “Dear You”, from Higurashi. I find that the song fits remarkably well Tear’s storyline. 

[razorsadness]

Jess Zimmerman, "Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today" (The Toast, December 2013)

[earlycuntsets]

I am referring to the chorus of this song. The whole song IS fucking slapper.

I know in my heart I've heard it but I am coming up short finding audio/interview evidence. In my broken memory, Gerard and Frank at least, loved and drew from the album "Dear You" by jawbreaker when writing three cheers.

That Frank lyric from stomachaches "if you could hear the dreams I've had my dear" is literally the chorus of this song. That's why then says "you've heard that one before" (as in jawbreaker said it first)

Another note about the chorus, it influenced the chorus in give 'em hell kid.

give em hell kid - "if you were here, i'd never have a fear"

jawbreaker - "if you could hear, the dreams i've had my dear"

mcr mimics this chorus in the music, the rhythm of the text is almost identical and the melody resembles the original as well. I have loved getting into Dear You and hearing what influenced three cheers. Super cool band and album, and really unique to what was going on in 1995.

[estehmanistanpagula]

Kepada kamu, yang sedang kutitipkan hatiku.

Jika ingin pergi, mohon taruh pada tempatnya kembali hati-hati.

Sebab meski kokoh, ia sangat mudah rapuh.

Depok, 10 Februari 2024

11:33

[hyperionnebulae]

Dear 16 year old me,

I know things are hard right now. I know it feels like so much of the world doesn't want you. I know some days all your energy goes into surviving. And, I know the last kind of person you want to take advice from is an adult twice your age.

But I know you. I was you. I am you. So hear me out.

You are strong, smart, and kind. The world is full of so many people you haven't met yet that are going to love that about you. You even have some people in your life that already do.

I remember having a hard time believing anything good about myself, when I was you. Which, to be clear, isn't something we are uniquely at fault for. Yes, we did hurt a lot and will continue to hurt a lot, probably for as long as we live, but that isn't all we are or will be. I think we both know we aren't anything close to that easy to understand.

And that's not a bad thing. We are not a bad thing. We are so far from a bad thing. We might even be an incredibly good thing, even for and towards our self, in my lived future experience.

Today is our birthday which might not feel like a victory for you right now. It might feel like just another participation medal for remembering to breathe but I want you to know that a future version of you has saved every one of those ribbons no matter the color or copy. They will never be meaningless to me because you aren't meaningless to me.

Maybe life is internally a team relay where you were the best and only choice to run that lap. Maybe it was a last minute change in rotation, a fluke that you weren't even minority prepared for. And yet, you only fully collapsed after you handed off the baton. You did everything exactly as you needed to do, you were exactly where you needed to be, and you did your part. We are still running because of you.

So even if this isn't a happy birthday for you, it will have been a good day for us to be born and to survive and thrive as long as we keep showing up to breathe.

Thank you for being yourself and happy birthday to us! I love you so much.

32 year old me

Ps. Yep, we get to just wear elf ears whenever we want now. For all the hassle, being an adult could definitely be worse. ✌

[straykisses220]

For you… yes, you

Don’t give up. You’re good enough. You’re literally so beautiful in my eyes. Beautiful in the way the sun kisses the trees in the summer mornings. I know that’s hard to accept sometimes- for I understand how you feel. I understand you.

I’ll be here for you always, I will never leave you. As long as your heart swells and eyes glitter, mine will for you… and for that you’re not a burden.

life is beauty… you are life.

Do you not believe you are as beautiful as life itself? Do you not feel the skin melting towards your bones, do you not feel the warmth of your eyelids when you blink? You are living, so aren’t you as beautiful as life?

Think of the warmth of a needed hug. About the rain pouring down your face. Of the calmness you feel when you glare towardsthe clouds in the blue and gray skies.

I know it hurts a lot. And I know that sometimes it doesn’t even hurt. That sometimes your soul feels drained of that life you so are.

I think of you. Everyday. You run across my mind like it’s a field of sunsets and warm flowers. It gives me joy to see your real smile. The way your eyes squint and your cheeks get pink. I love your eyes, I could stare at them all eternity if I could. For when I look into your eyes, I see that life you hide.

You’re beautiful, and I know you can’t see that, not yet. I wish you could see yourself in my eyes. I love how warm you are. And I love how happy you make me.

So no, don’t give up. The world would feel too bitter without you. I love you.

[dolores-hazy]

Dear you,

Before you try to refute it as you are wont to do...yes you are indeed dear. That is not up for debate because that's how I see you, and I hope with my every breath that you can learn to see yourself as what you are at your core and in totality. You are adored and loved for who you are at heart, and at least one soul in this cold world has been warmed thoroughly and enjoyably dazzled by the light yours has so graciously given off. Whether it be a fleeting passing or longer lasting meeting, it makes a difference and is a remarkable occurrence all the same. You see, you are more than what you have told yourself you are--your reach going farther and hold extending deeper than you seem to realize. I could go on and on,  but perhaps this is not the time or place or best way. I think of you probably more than I have any right to. So I will try to now think of other things and maybe this note will be enough to rid you from my mind...for the time being anyway.

[yourlovelyspace]

Even if it's just holding hands 💝

[dollcorrupted]

Want my owner to train me ♡

[razorsadness]

Jessie Lynn McMains, from Reckless Chants #25: dear you (August 2019)

[text version under cut]

dear xxx—

David Berman is dead & I'm fucking sad. sad about Toni Morrison too of course but I already said my piece on that & anyway she was 88. David was only 52. not much older than my partner. & god damn it when you've lived a life like mine the words of white sadboy poet/singer-songwriters mean just as much to you as (if not in some ways more than) the greatest writers of our time, of any race or gender. cuz I grew up on that indie-punk shit. cuz I'm a sad whiteboy sometimes, too. cuz Toni Morrison was a great novelist but Silver Jews lyrics had more of an influence on my own writing.

like "We Are Real," where D.B. wrote:

Repair is the dream of the broken thing Like a message broadcast on an overpass All my favorite singers couldn't sing

like "Tennessee," when he sang:

Punk rock died when the first kid said "Punk's not dead, punk's not dead"

like how I cry harder when my punk/music icons die than I can imagine crying for almost any established writer. Lorna Doom died the day before Mary Oliver died, then the next day Debi Martini died & I was more brokenhearted about Lorna & Debi than Mary. cuz Mary was 83 & Lorna & Debi were younger. cuz it felt like I should tattoo Punk Is Dead on my forehead & slamdance on its grave. cuz Mary Oliver's poetry meant a lot to me but it didn't explode my fucking world like the Germs LP did. I don't know how to explain this. If you know, you know. David Berman died & I'm devastated.

I was devastated in December, when Pete Shelley died, & I'm still not over it if I think about it too much. I was in my car, on the way to pick my oldest kid up from school, & the DJ's voice on my favorite radio station broke thru my afternoon motion-induced reverie. breaking news; that's never good. Pete Shelley has died from a heart attack, he said, & played "Ever Fallen in Love." & I cried, of course I did. it hurt to lose one of punk's great songwriters, one of punk's great frontmen, who took his stage name from a Romantic poet & wrote songs that showed me it was okay to be myself, that there were other people out there like me. showed me it was okay to be a hypersexual bisexual, an "Orgasm Addict;" that I could be a punk & also be a hopelessly romantic lovesick dork. & it hurt to lose him because his kindness meant a lot to me when I was young—yeah, I knew Pete; we weren't close friends but we'd met, & he was sweet & funny & irreverent. I cried for him & I cried for the kid I was when I met him, the kid I was back when I first heard the Buzzcocks—back when I was a teenage misfit always falling in love with people I shouldn't have.

but the day after Pete died was Tom Waits' birthday, & I used it as an excuse to partake in some nostalgic pleasures; to be my old self if only for an hour or two. or as much my old self as I can still be. I went to the Douglas Avenue Diner for lunch, with my youngest kiddo as my date. I thought of xxx. I always miss her most in November & December. & diners make me think of her, & Tom Waits makes me think of her, & the death of old punks makes me think of her. everything reminds me of her. I thought of Hearts Don't Break, the novella I wrote in '02/'03, which was heavily based on our friendship; thought of my description of 'the coffee-stained comfort of our favorite diner.' different diner, different city, different year, but it was comforting to be there. they were playing Xmas carols & the patrons were an equal mix of punks & old folks. Greek-American-owned diners like Douglas Ave. make me the most nostalgic, as those are the diners I grew up going to—there are so many of them in the Midwest. I thought of the Alps East in Chicago, the diner I haunted as a broke college student; how I'd go there & order a cup of soup & a bottomless coffee & sit for hours eavesdropping on other patrons, getting ideas for short stories. I thought of the diners in Kenosha, going to them with xxxxx back when we were dating, sharing an order of spanikopita & a side of rice pilaf. after I left the diner that day, I mailed out a bunch of zines & chapbooks & that, too, was the same as it ever was.

& now another hero is dead & I'm finishing the first full issue of my zine in over two years, thinking about who I was back when I listened to the Silver Jews a lot. that terrible summer of '03, summer of nervous breakdowns & strep throat, too much rum & whiskey, & my lovers all dropping me. summer of pirates & pills; photocopied midnights. now it's the summer of '19 & I'm here writing & thinking of everything that's gone. favorite places, people, zines, scenes. I miss everything all the time. same as it ever was.

[rustbeltjessie]

Summer of Freckles & Fireflies. The summer when you cried at every sunset. The summer when you stayed up all night, every night. Thunderstorm Summer. Summer that was so hot it melted the soldering on the stained glass lamp. Summer of Secret Gardens & Skinned Knees. Summer of Mosquito Bites & Dark Truths. Carl Sandburg Summer, when the stars drew fish with fire-tails & rabbits with fire-ears on the night sky. Summer of Long Drives. Summer of Chicory on the Roadsides. Summer of Motel Rooms & Highway Signs. The summer you ran away with the circus. Summer of Tall Ships, when you played at being a pirate. Theater Camp Summer. Northwoods Summer. Cicada Summer.

—Jessie Lynn McMains, from Reckless Chants #28.09: some summers

[estehmanistanpagula]

Tuhan, sederhana saja pintaku.

Jaga ia selalu.

Depok, 17 Januari 2024

23:07

[passingthoughtsofyou]

Sunday July 28th 2024 1:10pm

Most people refer to their current partners as the love of their life. I, however, cannot do that.

You may have been my first relationship, and we may have not gotten any further than a hug and holding hands. But, if one thing has remained true, is that you were, are, and have been the love of my life.

Not one moment since the first moment of love between us, has my love lacked or faltered.

I think that's what makes this harder - my love for you has always remained, but you, have not.

From a child to an adult 15-26, it's been you. I'll forever dream of our future. If you showed up to my wedding day to someone else, I don't think I could follow through with it. That's how true my feelings are for you.

What a shame, that we got a second chance at us, and it fell apart - I still wish I knew why.

[env0]

Dear You…

Dear FabledAnarchy,

To share words with you is a delight. Your insight. Your light. Your struggled might. You are truly quite the sight. Knowing you has been a gift. I am infatuated and adoring. And ever imploring to learn more.

I wish you all the best in your pursuits. You are both noble and great in your virtues and passions and pleasures. I wish i could do more to assist you on your way, but I do what I can when and how.

I am dumbfounded daily that you choose to keep speaking with me when you are so lovely and smart. I thank you for it. I could only wish to be so fortunate to have someone close to your quality in my daily life offline.

You deserve the world and all fruit its bears.