For what feels like the millionth time, I’m certain that some unseen force, cruel and unyielding, keeps us apart. To name it feels unbearable, yet what else is left to say? We are both so tired of trying. Even the best-laid dreams crumble like autumn leaves underfoot, withering into nothingness. The moment we ached for has long slipped through our fingers, as fleeting as sand, and still, we clutch at separate visions, refusing to let them dissolve.
I continue to write about you—again and again—but these words are ghosts, never meant to find you. And if they do, know this: you were never their intended destination.

Please, I beg of you—turn away from me as I stand, untouched, unbroken beneath your gaze. With a heart heavy as stone, I know we will never gamble on the unknown. So I won’t look back to marvel at the fragile beauty of the dreams we built and shattered. Let us abandon this myth of fate, for fate is nothing but you and me, bound in knots we cannot untangle. If you defy what I’ve undone, or I resist your path, we will both unravel, thread by thread.

They’ll call me cruel, say I play games with your heart—but all I crave is peace. How I ache to die by your side, though you will never know. It would be the sweetest gift—to face the world’s end together, even if the skies fall and the seas rise.

But that will never happen.

Believe me, I have buried you deep, in a sacred, hidden place within my soul where no one can ever reach you. Not even I dare disturb it. No matter how beloved, kind, or beautiful those around me think I am, they will never know your name. When the time comes, when I am ready to bring life into this world, even my children will never need to know you existed. So let go of your foolish thoughts, your defiance against destiny.

If destiny exists, then it is because I can still alter the course we walk. But what do you want from it—surrender? You’ll never truly release me, will you? You will keep questioning fate’s cruel twists, pretending none of this touches you. But you don't have me. Your meals are joyless, your laughter hollow, your friends few. I know how you crave solitude, how you’ve welcomed countless faces into your life, but none of it matters to me. Drowning your sorrow in drink will never numb the ache, and my tears will fall in vain—unless you choose, willingly, to live a life of suffering.

I no longer want to change anything, for I have the right to seek a life bathed in light without you, knowing you are haunted by regret. Or perhaps with you—yet still, I must shine, even brighter. My family and friends would honor you, and your father, the pastor, might welcome me for love's sake, though he might struggle, too. I could even wear another faith for you, but that battle lies within your heart.

By letting you go, I give myself to someone who truly deserves my love, refusing to settle for a hollow, twisted affection. Your pain does not stir sympathy in me anymore. We were never meant to be. You were my first love, and when you leave this world, my heart will break. But if I go first, you will ache too. Fate has already marked us—we will never belong to one another, no matter how we yearn.

I will never say it aloud, but I’ve seen far more of the world, of love, than you ever will. This knowledge will haunt you, though you’ll never hear it from me.

I am a wound that bleeds for you, near or distant, so I beg you—please, for the countless time—please, go. Go far away. Until you string your dreams high, beyond the reach of sky or stars, I will gnaw at the edges of your soul. I will keep at it until you are breathless, until reason deserts you. I am your god, if all gods are cruel. Though it will never make sense to me, I will always be here, ready to be despised by the very love that aches for me.

Believe me, my love—I no longer seek your fondness. Though my heart aches with the same longing, you’ve become a stranger to me, and I can’t reach for you anymore. I’m bound to a path of endless self-repair, chasing after answers to troubles that never cease, while time presses against me like a shadow I can’t outrun.

I'm haunted by the thought of growing old beside you, if your heart quakes at the mere whisper of age. To speak honestly, you are the darkest shadow that has ever crept into my life, yet you’ve etched lessons in my soul that I cannot erase. Like a ghost, you linger in my thoughts, an echo of something lost. Each time you whisper those words—“I love you,” “I miss you,” “If only you were here”—my heart fractures anew, a pain that echoes deep within. I long for a different way, a reality where my reflection doesn’t fill me with despair. Even as I wrestle with my own shadows, you’ve faded from my essence, yet I remain trapped in the cage of my own immaturity, longing for what was never truly mine.

My love, I carry the weight of a love that feels as genuine as the quiet sorrow that wraps around my heart. I mourn the truth that I can never possess you, never truly know the depths of your soul. No one else has been able to cradle this love I hold, a treasure kept hidden beneath layers of longing. Deep within, you are a shimmering light that I sense but cannot touch; you may glimpse my devotion, yet refuse to believe it. And even if you could, you’d find that believing doesn’t bring you any closer to me.

Oh, my love, to linger in this aching void feels like a slow, relentless death. I’d rather sever my own heart than bear this torment of remembering you. The weight of your absence clings to me, an indelible mark of pain and shattered hopes. You have become nothing but a whisper in the corridors of my mind—a bittersweet echo that brings both solace and sorrow. In your fleeting presence, I find a fragile happiness, a stolen moment where I feel cherished against the world’s cold judgment. If I could choose, I would surrender my breath in that sacred place, where loving you is all that remains, and I could hold you close until my final heartbeat.

It's the same old tale, an echo of longing, where unfinished dreams haunt my heart, and my love bears the weight of unspoken words. I yearn to cradle you in my arms, or lose myself in the depths of your embrace, yet I’m paralyzed, caught in the web of hesitation. The thought of losing you, of watching my desires slip away like sand through my fingers, fills me with despair; I’d rather taste death than endure this silent agony, so let me perish without remorse once I've had my fill of you. I am a vessel of torment, my soul a storm of uncried tears. My heart aches, heavy as lead, and though I feel the pull of your presence, it’s a cruel illusion, for time and distance twist our fates into cruel knots. Oh, to hell with the gods who mock our love.

I am forever losing you, and in the quiet of our separation, you slip from my grasp. Our thoughts dance in different realms, unreachable and untouchable. I wish you could see me not as a demon, but as a shadow cast by the light of your understanding. Though I swear to myself I’ll stop loving you, I plead for your heart to turn away from mine.

FOR ****'S SAKE PLEASE LET GO OF ME. FORGET ME.

Believe that my affection is a gift you do not deserve, and that I am a wretched soul, delighting in the agony I cause you. Picture the weight of despair settling in your heart, the haunting realization that you can never claim what your soul longs for. Though I never turned my back on you, I spun a web of falsehoods to set you free. My world remains, a silent witness, forever hoping for your happiness, even as I fade into the distance. But this time, I beg you, find a way to help me carry the burden of this love we cannot share.

My heart feels silenced, as if it can no longer weave words into the fabric of my being, leaving me lost in the silence of uncertainty. On my darkest days, when shadows engulfed me, not even your light could pierce through. Yet there were others, souls who wrapped their love around me like a warm blanket, steadfast in their support as I stumbled through the remnants of my pain. They stood by me, even when I sought solace in the very things that threatened to consume me. In my foolishness and torment, they carved out moments just for me, but oh, my love, the weight I carry is heavier than any heart should bear. I find myself wishing for an end, believing I’ve unearthed a remedy for this ache. But I long to awaken to a life filled with light once more.

I will trace the outlines of other men, and you will. I won’t weep for it, for this is truth—our hearts can yearn freely in the open air. You can seek love wherever it blooms, for I won't bind you. Yet, if the day comes when I exchange vows, what then will become of us? Should I share my joy, knowing it will echo with your heartache, leaving us to navigate the tender ache of what could have been?

No, I’ll turn away, cradling my fragile ego like a delicate glass. I refuse to linger in a place where pain seeps into my heart, for I am not a moth drawn to the flame of suffering. It’s not a yearning for hurt that pulls at my soul; it’s the quiet ache of wanting more than what I’ve been given. I walk away, not in anger, but in a sorrowful embrace of my own vulnerability, leaving behind echoes of what could have been.

I appreciate all of our few moments together and your affection. Even if there are shadows in the corners, a whisper is stirring in the quiet places of my heart—a desire to experience the warmth of life again.