violet-scars
violet-scars
I Am A Daydream
20K posts
Hi I'm Riley and I've been daydreaming my whole life. If you’re actually reading this welcome to the inside of my brain
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violet-scars · 26 days ago
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violet-scars · 29 days ago
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I came to life to wake her up
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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“The First Time I Knew”
I think the first time I knew was the moment our eyes met.
It was recognition before reason.
Like my soul startled in your direction and said, Oh. There you are.
I tried to tell myself it was just a moment.
Just energy.
Just attraction.
But nothing has ever been just with you.
Since the day I met you, you’ve lived inside my thoughts like a quiet flame that never goes out.
Not even when I tried to douse it with logic.
Not even when I told myself I wasn’t allowed to feel it.
Because you had a girlfriend.
Because I had someone too.
Because I was leaving.
Because timing is cruel, and the universe doesn’t always hand you what you want when you want it.
But even then, you never left me.
You were in every empty space.
Every song I wanted to send.
Every joke I wanted you to hear.
Every time I dressed a little different, hoping someone would see me the way you already had.
I used to convince myself you flirted like that with everyone.
That I was reading too much into it.
That your eyes didn’t linger, your voice didn’t soften, your energy didn’t reach for me.
But I know now.
I know what it felt like to be chosen, even if neither of us ever said it out loud.
You made me feel alive in a way I didn’t know I was missing.
You made me laugh when I wanted to disappear.
You made me curious again—about love, about feeling, about what it might be like to actually be met.
And I was so scared.
Because I had already promised myself to someone else.
Because I didn’t want to hurt him.
Because I didn’t want to ruin something you seemed to be building, even if it wasn’t with me.
So I pulled back.
Not because I didn’t want you.
But because I wanted you so much, it terrified me.
I told myself that if I moved to New York, I could reset.
That I could tuck you into some warm corner of my past and call it beautiful and unfinished and enough.
But every train, every skyline, every person I met—I wanted to tell you about all of it.
You were the first person I thought of when I saw something stunning.
Or strange.
Or slightly funny in the way only you would get.
And I kept sending you snaps—not to win you, not to play games—
but because everything reminded me of you.
And I didn’t know where else to put that.
I never stopped thinking about you.
Not once.
You were always the one I wanted to run into by accident.
The one I pictured showing up at my door when I finally had something to show off.
The one I compared everyone else to without even meaning to.
And now?
Now I’m still in something that no longer fits.
Trying to be present.
Trying to be kind.
Trying not to break someone else’s heart with the truth that mine has already gone quiet.
I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this.
But I’m going to try—as gracefully as I can.
Because I can no longer stay living a lie.
I will need time to heal.
Time to be alone.
Time to become my own person again.
But my heart will never stop waiting for you.
You were always the one.
Even when I tried to bury it.
Even when I pretended I was past it.
Even when I said nothing.
And if you’re reading this and thinking Why now?—
It’s because I can’t carry it quietly anymore.
Because the love I’ve had for you has never dimmed.
Not once.
Not ever.
You’ve always felt like a future I couldn’t reach—but never stopped hoping for.
And I’m not writing this to ask you for anything.
I’m writing it because you deserve to know that someone has loved you like this.
That someone has never once stopped thinking of you when she hears a certain song, or sees a raccoon, or feels something spiritual and wants to tell the only person who would believe her.
Scott’s passing made it impossible to ignore I can’t wait to tell you this forever. Love is rare and it must be cherished.
I don’t love you because it’s convenient.
I don’t love you because I’m lonely.
I love you because you are the most honest feeling I’ve ever had.
And if I could go back and say it sooner, I would.
But all I can do is say it now:
You are still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known.
You still live in me.
You always have.
You always will.
And I will love you forever.
Even if it’s from here.
Even if you never say it back.
I’m okay with all of it.
Because you changed me.
You loved me in a way no one ever has and I don’t even know if you know.
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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Wislawa Szymborska, from "Funeral," featured in View with a Grain of Sand: Selected Poems
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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By Jung Lee
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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“Scott”
I never realized how important you were to me until you were gone.
You made me feel special. Cared for. So deeply loved—something I had never gotten from my parents. And I welcomed it in with open arms.
I never had a parental love that didn’t ask for something back. That didn’t want me to be a certain person or perform in a specific way to receive the love I rightfully deserved.
You just gave it to me.
And it was something I couldn’t understand at the time—how love could be given with nothing in return. To me, love had always been something earned, worked for, wrapped in conditions. And by the time it got to me, it was already so watered down I could barely feel it.
But you loved me for who I was.
Not who I could become, not what I was fixing—just me, in that exact moment.
I don’t think you realized that was all I ever dreamed of.
To feel like I belonged to someone who didn’t want to change me.
Even in my relationship, I couldn’t seem to fully earn love unless I was doing everything right.
But with you, there was nothing to earn.
Only space to be.
We hid our deep love for each other in jokes—talking about how much we hated our job, how most of the people we worked with were idiots. You came to talk to me every single day you worked. Told me wild stories. Showed up high on RSO just to keep the cancer pain at bay, and I’d be a little high too, and we’d just sit there and laugh.
Over and over. God, we laughed.
You were proud of me for moving to New York City, but I know a part of you was heartbroken.
And part of me was, too.
I knew I was leaving you, and I knew you didn’t want me to stay—but you also didn’t want me to go.
You knew how rare our connection was.
You felt the urgency of time more than I did.
And I chose to let my love shine brighter than my fear, praying the inevitable would take a long time.
It didn’t.
But somehow, I still got more time with you than I expected.
Sometimes I wonder if you ever really knew what you meant to me.
How deeply your love validated me.
If I could receive that kind of love and fatherly care from someone I barely knew,
why did I spend my whole life fighting for it from people who couldn’t give it?
The universe gave me you to show me something clearly:
Love doesn’t need to be earned.
And it was so obvious, it didn’t even need to be said.
You were a divine moment in my life.
One that gave me a part of my heart back I didn’t know I’d lost.
I always wanted my parents to apologize. To own the way they never let me feel good enough—because it was easier for them to mold me than to see me.
But when I ended up living with them again during the housing crisis in Portland, and then met you?
The juxtaposition was impossible to ignore.
You made me laugh. You made me feel seen. You told stories I loved.
And most of all, you saw my heart.
Something I was told my whole life was too complicated, too messy, too much.
You saw it without even trying.
Others said it was buried deep.
You walked right in.
The hugs. The questions. The care.
You gave me everything I never got—but always needed.
I don’t know how you knew.
But you did.
From the very first moment.
And now, to Scott:
Thank you for loving me without needing anything in return.
Thank you for showing me that love can be simple, sacred, and safe.
You didn’t fix me. You didn’t mold me.
You just sat beside me and saw me—and that changed me forever.
You were proof that not all men hurt.
That father figures can feel like light instead of pressure.
You reminded me what it feels like to be held.
And now, even in your absence, I feel that light still.
You gave me the love I thought I had to fight for.
You handed it to me gently, like it was always mine.
And because of that, I believe I will never again settle for anything less.
I carry you with me—
in every laugh,
in every story I tell,
in every moment I remember that I am already enough.
Thank you, Scott.
I’ll never stop being grateful for you.
I’ll never stop being changed,
And most importantly I’ll never stop loving you.
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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“I have so much to say to you that l am afraid I shall tell you nothing.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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— Nitya Prakash
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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Nikos Kazantzakis, from a letter featured in The Selected Letters of Nikos Kazantzakis
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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Saiba, 1858
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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— Jenny Slate, Little Weirds
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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Joy Sullivan, from Instructions for Traveling West: Poems; “Instructions for Traveling West”
[Text ID: “you’re homesick / for all the lives / you’re not living.”]
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Leonard Woolf, featured in The Selected Letters of Virginia Woolf
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violet-scars · 1 month ago
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Rainer Maria Rilke, from a diary entry featured in Diaries of a Young Poet
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