#lettersineversent

[strawberryswish3rs]

I want to earn you Trace your weakest spots And search for your soft ones. I want to show you I’m worthy Of all the madness you’ve endured before me.

[eftwiththelove]

¿Qué se hace con todo este amor?

Es algo extraño cómo de la nada llegas a amar a alguien y esa misma persona termina dejándote con el amor entre las manos de un día para otro.

Pensé que esta vez sería diferente. Pensé que, por una vez, alguien tendría la certeza de quedarse. Pero me equivoqué. Al final, todo termina igual: dudas, miedos, confusiones y personas que aseguran sentir algo, pero que después ya no saben qué quieren.

En algún momento parecían tan seguros. Te prometen el cielo, el mar, la tierra y hasta la luna. Y uno, aunque en el fondo tenga miedo, decide creer. Decide ignorar esa pequeña voz que advierte que quizás las cosas no salgan bien. Porque cuando quieres a alguien, eliges confiar.

Y entonces pasa. Te quedas con todo lo que sentías, con todo lo que imaginabas y con todo el amor que estabas dispuesta a dar, mientras la otra persona se aleja llevándose una parte de ti.

A veces me pregunto si soy yo la que siente demasiado. La que se entrega demasiado rápido. La que cree demasiado en las palabras. ¿Cuándo aprenderé a no dar tanto de mí? ¿Cuándo dejaré de ilusionarme con personas que no saben si quieren quedarse?

También me pregunto cuándo llegará alguien que no dude de lo que siente. Alguien que no vea el amor como algo temporal. Alguien que entienda que abrir el corazón y entregarse a otra persona no es algo que deba tomarse a la ligera.

Porque lo que más duele no es que alguien se vaya. Lo que más duele es que se vaya después de hacerte creer que se quedaría.

Tal vez él estaba confundido. Tal vez no estaba preparado. Tal vez realmente no sabía lo que quería. Pero eso no hace menos real todo lo que me hizo sentir ni todo lo que ahora me toca cargar sola.

Estoy cansada de intentarlo. Cansada de creer que esta vez será diferente y terminar recogiendo los pedazos de algo que nunca tuvo la oportunidad de crecer.

Y aunque hoy me siento triste, aunque hoy me pregunte si tengo mala suerte en el amor, sé que algún día dejaré de culparme por haber amado con sinceridad.

Porque amar de verdad nunca fue el error.

El error fue encontrar a alguien que no supo qué hacer con todo ese amor.

[pagesofdaniii]

things i never said

Hello, I’m Daniya.

This is a quiet little corner of the internet

for the things i never said out loud.

a place for

letters i never sent,

thoughts that stayed in my chest,

late-night reflections,

and small pieces of my heart.

sometimes it will be poetry,

sometimes just a sentence that felt too heavy to keep.

if you found this page,

maybe you were meant to.

stay for a while.

read slowly.

maybe you’ll find a piece of yourself here too.

— dani

[imstrangernotdanger]

One of the letters I never sent

Hello TNQ.

I can't believe a woman like you, a lawyer, a religious person, older and smarter than us, than me, chose to ruin someone else's relationship. I can't believe how you can stomach that fact.

You are selfish, evil, and bad. You hurt more people than you know. Sometimes I don't believe in karma, but because of you, sometimes I pray that karma hits you so hard that you realize that you hurt good people. I hope you get a realization that what you did is really, really bad, and I hope it doesn't happen to you. (But I hope it happens to you way harder and worse.)

DMS|5.1.25

[spicymangomargarita]

It may look like idgaf, imagine 4 mos STRAIGHT of rejecting all your invitations, even now that's your special day :-((

but i do give a fuck.

i fucking do.

its only you i fuck with.

[thoselettersweneversent-blog]

My Dearest [name redacted],

I'm so sad to hear that you are still struggling. I am not sure what you are referring to regarding terminal illness but I am hoping that they are wrong about that. They've been wrong before. You are a fighter.  I was a little surprised when you were upset with me over not commenting about  [treatment redacted]. I didn’t see it and I do not feel that it is realistic for everyone you know to see everything you post on social media. 

Last I heard, there was a  campaign led by your father. I donated what I could. I know you are sending health updates to a very large mailing list, so it’s possible that it was flagged as SPAM. I value your updates and appreciate that you loop me in. I am rooting for the cure. As I've told you before, none of your illness updates are too heavy for me.

I am however going against therapist advice by replying to your message. She and my closest friends told me to stop speaking to you years ago. After I spent seven hours writing you a long, heartfelt letter that you skimmed and responded to in 30 seconds. But I want to calm any anxieties that I stopped speaking to you due to your illness because I still care about you. In case you are skimming again:

Your illness is not why we are no longer close.

As a public figure, I know that it is important to you that everyone holds you as their number one. For most people, I’m sure it’s okay if the feeling is not mutual. Hell, that’s reasonable. And your number one will always be the man in your life. Which is fair. Except...it seems that you are the type of girl who surrounds herself with adoring followers, until you’ve selected “The One.” And then we are tossed aside like the tattered playthings until you find fault in him. Then, we surround you so you can regale us with your tales of woe, while you slowly fade from one relationship to another. Never for a moment stepping out alone into the cold. Always a crossover of men who beg for your love, who beg me for the answers to your heart. Me, always knowing that one wink from a potential suitor will have me tossed aside so you can protect your reputation.

When I am with you, I feel like the cowgirl doll in Toy Story - Jesse and her relationship with her former owner, Emily.

I do not wish to be a doll in your collection. 

In fact, it seems like there are many Jesse dolls, just like me. You call us all #soulsisters. And when we talk to one another, you lash out. You collected some of my close friends and tried to separate us from one another. You were very effective at this, as I trusted you completely. 

When we got back together - mostly for your benefit since you needed care, we compared notes. It seemed that you had lied to all of us. In order to be the center of our worlds, you have to make sure we are isolated in our boxes. But being friends with each other never would have made us love you less. But we loved you, just the way you were.

You know, when you e-mailed out-of-the-blue, asking why we are no longer close friends I actually went through my old e-mails. I’ve already told you this. I begged you to listen. But you skimmed those, too, I guess. 

Then, I looked through the old photos. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if you actually existed. I questioned my sanity; what if I had dreamed you up? That you were some stranger, catfishing me for my love. Because I haven’t seen you in the flesh for a decade, and yet you still want me to call you my best friend.

You had no words when we nearly died in the accident. Or when criminals held us at gunpoint. When my mother nearly died from a hit and run. When I was assaulted - twice. And even with the good things. No thank yous when we did huge gestures for your pleasure and entertainment. It’s okay because I knew that you were sick. I didn’t even think twice about it..until your message. 

 And yet here we are, digging at old wounds because out of the thousands of people on your social media accounts, you are missing one “Like.” Like a baseball card you dropped under the couch, not having that perfect number in your head must be making you itch. 

I have cried a thousand tears for you. And now here this is - the letter that I cannot send. Because I do not wish to cause you harm and it is socially unacceptable to confront people who are dying. You have been saying that you are dying for 15 years. And although I am happy that you are here, you are getting away with murder because everyone is terrified to call you on your other bullshit. 

I can no longer be totally honest, as I had been with you from the moment we met, because you are sick and I don’t want to upset you. Also, because you don’t listen. My therapist has read your letters and has some deep concerns about your intentions. But my frustrations with you are meaningless next to the dark that faces us all.

Because guess what?! WE ARE ALL DYING!

I loved you. I  gave you all I had and I came up short. I do not have any gold to heal the cracks in our relationship that could make us stronger.  I do not have any gold left to pour into the cracks of our broken relationship. I cannot make us more beautiful. Stronger. Functional. The only gold I've been able to offer is that of your own sacred time. Time that you can use to heal and strengthen the bond with the incredible people who are closest to you; the people who are physically there beside you to help you through these dark days. It's clear to me now that those people who have better tools than I have, so I am unbelievably thankful that they exist.

I am heartbroken that I cannot give you what you need. I think of the times we had together as precious - even when you were communicating via the hospital bed. 

It was not the illness that made me stop speaking to you. It was your lies and manipulations.

If you can just let me go, I can finally forgive you. I need to continue to root for you from a distance, admire your dedication to making the world a better place even in the darkest hours. I think of you as a gifted artist and generous arts advocate. I think of you as a health advocate, who has dedicated so much time sharing info to all of the folks who don't have an answer. I thank you for sharing your sacred time with me. I wish for you to have nothing but the best life, surrounded by loved ones, embracing your passions and helping people. I wish you strength and healing. But I cannot allow you to hurt me or my loved ones anymore, even if you are sick. Even if you are dying.

[x-lettersweneversent-x-blog]

To my mother, who was incapable of being a mother to me.

I wish so much that I could call you my mom, I wish so much that I could call you at all. I wish you had been a mother to me, that I knew what I did to make you not want me. There is a part of me that wants to scream at you, that wants to scream that I hate you for everything you didn’t do for me, for not being there when I needed you so damn bad.

But there’s a part of me that want to just sit down and talk, to try to get to know you like I have wanted to so badly since I was a little girl. I sit here and think back to all of the times I needed you so badly, when I first moved out, when I woke up crying my first night on my own. When I graduated highschool and went to prom, and strangers did my makeup instead of you.

I think forward to all of the times when a woman should be able to rely on her mom being there, when I one day get married, when I have my first child, your first grandchild. There are so many things I wish you had been here for. So many questions I wish you had been here for me to ask when I needed you so badly. But you weren’t here, and I know you wont be here. And as much as that hurts I have accepted that.

It hurts so very much but I have accepted that you are not and never will be capable of being a mother to me. I have accepted that the only thing you have given me is your eyes, and those I will see every time I look into the mirror and that will be all I will ever see and know of you. xThe Daughter who wishes you were able to be her mother.

[orgemonic]