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al Jun 2016
I believe this is long overdue. But I will never show this to you. I will not tell you of its existence, because while it is a letter addressed for you, it is actually a letter for me. So...
Dear you,
If you began to read this letter, I'm sure that you'd know exactly what it would be about. It's been many months since we fell apart. Things were really good, at first. I really liked you for a long time, but I had the notion in my head that nothing would ever happen. I never thought someone like you would have feelings for me. So, when you told me you did, I was so happy I could barely contain my excitement.
This is where things first went wrong.
The first night I stayed at your place and woke up in your arms, I felt like I was on cloud nine. I had already fallen hard for you. So, we when started off seeing each other, I was already invested. I wanted things to go well. But I got so wrapped up in my excitement and emotions that I went stumbling forward, full speed. I had never been in a relationship and I didn't know what I was doing. So I poured my heart out quick and fast.
This is not what you wanted.
I could see that something was wrong. I could sense that something was off by the way you acted. Then came the night that you gave me my Christmas present: a simple necklace, but incredibly beautiful.
I had no idea that when I gave you a thank you kiss, that it would be the last one we would share.
It was late. We watched a movie. You were closed off, I could tell by the way you laid there. Your body wasn't the same. But we kept watching... and then when it was over, you said you wanted to talk to me. You said that something had been on your mind, and that you had been thinking about it for a while. You said that you thought we had moved too quickly emotionally, that you needed to go home, clear your head, and that we would talk about it when we got back from break.
You asked me what I thought. I had no words. Truly, because I had been wrapped up in my bliss, and suddenly I was thrown down back to Earth. Hard. In that moment, I didn't really know if we were moving too fast. But now I realize. Months later, I realize a lot more than I did in that moment in your bedroom of your apartment.
I am a very different person now than I was on that December night.
I said I appreciated that you were honest with me. You said I probably shouldn't stay the night anymore. I said you were probably right.
It was three o'clock in the ******* morning and you let me walk back to my place alone. But before I left you hugged me and said "Thank you for everything." I remember it vividly. It scared me because it **** well sounded like an ending.
Sure enough, it was.
I got back to my room. My roommate was gone. I was alone. And so I cried. I cried myself to sleep that night because I was scared. I thought things were finally going to work out, but then everything I was so excited for seemed like it was slipping through my fingers and I could do nothing about it. This was the case, but it took a lot of time and denial before I realized.
We were distant until the semester ended. I gave you a quick goodbye in the library and left for break. You went home, far, to your family. Over that time, I was always the one to initiate conversation. Maybe twice, you reached out to me. The talks were brief, never by voice, only by text. But you were oh so consistently on my mind. It was all I could think about. It was all I could hope that we'd come back from break and you'd want to pick up where we left off. But this was just a fantasy.
We got back. I was so nervous to see you. Things were cold. They were awkward. I drove my friends crazy, because all I could talk about was this. This thing that was eating me alive. They were mad, I was frustrated too, but for other reasons.
I finally decided I needed to talk to you. I needed to figure out what the hell this was between us. And finally, I thought we might... but this was before I found out you were seeing her. Another girl. I think that was the moment I really started to fall apart.
Someone, either that night or the night prior, asked if we were still seeing each other.
You avoided the question. I stood there awkwardly.
I drank too much. I became sick, crying over the toilet of a ****** bathroom. This was one of the many nights that I cried over you.
It was all downhill from there. I was an emotional wreck, my heart broken and torn and crushed. And while that sounds dramatic, it was truly a heartbreak unlike anything I had ever experienced. I was so hopeful. I was so excited. And then everything came crumbling down.
They say actions speak louder than words, and your actions roared so loudly I couldn't hear myself think.
It was months of emotional instability. Too much drinking. Too many nights spent crying over you. Too many times where I questioned why things had to end up like this. Too many times where my best friends told me I needed to do my best to move on, and too many times where they had to hold me as I had another breakdown.
I don't know if I have the words to properly describe how absolutely awful I felt. For months this lasted, and I could not shake it. I know this does not sound healthy, and believe me, I completely recognize this. So this is why I am writing this letter. Because I am trying to get better, and this is my first step.
My friend said I need to completely cut you out, until I feel nothing. But this is hard for me. I am an emotional, nostalgic person. So it is really hard to steer my thoughts in a different direction when I find them wandering to memories of us. There is no denying that you have become an integral part of my life, despite the hardships. You have many of the same friends and we run in the same circles. You are so intertwined with my life that I cannot untangle myself. There is no denying that you are part of my life and that will not change. So how do I really move forward? How do I begin to heal?
I write this as an attempt to heal. This is a way to collect my thoughts, to collect myself. I can't cut you out completely. Part of me wants to unfollow you on all social media and make you vanish, in a sense. Especially tempting as you flirt with my best friend, making comments. But I want to be strong. I do not want to cave. I want to more forward, to find some normalcy that I so desperately need.
You hurt me. This is obvious. But I will not lie and say I am guilt free. You didn't give me the decency to talk about things. But in a way of trying to cope, I said terrible things about you to the people around me. I made nasty comments because in the moment, I wondered if by seeming tough to others, I would feel better about myself. But it made me feel worse because I didn't mean it. Because even as much as you hurt me, I still saw the good in you.
I think that's why I still felt this way for all this time. Because I knew there was good in you. I saw it in the way you cared for your family, for your love of singing, when you would pick me up food and not expect anything in return, the way you treated my family with so much respect when you came to visit my house. There was good in you, so I continually looked past the bad.
But this will not work between us. I'm slowly starting to realize that some things don't work out, no matter how much you want them to. And so it is time to begin the journey of moving on.
Things will never be the same, and I recognize this. I just hope that we can move forward in some way or another. We owe each other that, at least.
al Nov 2015
2 am on a friday morning,
you were playing me that 90's music you said you grew up on.
we sat on the couch of your apartment and did nothing
but listen to the music while everyone else slept.
if I could go back in time and relieve one moment
it would be this one, this simple thing.
back then I wasn't tired and sad and lost.
now? I lie in bed at four in the morning like this
writing poems about how much I miss my old life
and you.
al Apr 2015
(don't) let me be the one to bring out your beautiful smile
(don't) let me be the one who makes your laughter escape from your lips
(don't) let me be the person who makes your gorgeous eyes twinkle
(don't) let me be consumed by you
inspired by some people I know
al Nov 2015
My old poems are like a diary.
I reread them and they take me back
to a me that I can barely remember.
But it was me.
My old poems are my past.
They are my memories,
my pain,
my love.
My old poems are still a part of me.
Those memories are still a part of me,
even though sometimes
*I like to pretend they are not.
al Feb 2015
She said she wouldn't date him
because she knew how I still felt
and she thought
"What kind of a friend would that make me?
I wouldn't want to do that to you."
Yet here I sat, thinking
What kind of a friend does that make me?
Holding her back from being with a guy
who she cares about a lot
just because I want him
when he wants her and not me.
Envy is one of the seven deadly sins
and baby, I'm gonna die green.
al Mar 2015
what an odd kind of satisfaction I get
from having a little secret between
you & I.
sure, it doesn't change anything,
but by not changing anything
*it changes everything.
what a funny thing life is.
al Feb 2015
I can't live like this.
With the constant anxiety
upset stomachs
never-ending distress
and inner turmoil.
The fear that every single word
every action
every laugh
is a nuisance, an annoyance.
I won't let you make me feel this way
because I can't live like this.
al Mar 2015
What an odd feeling it is
to be lonely
when you are surrounded by so many people.
What a painful feeling it is
to think you shouldn't be lonely
even when you are.
What a soul-crushing feeling it is
to want nothing more to be that special person to someone
but that someone never comes.
al Jan 2015
my poems are the result
of not being able to focus on my homework
and the product
of pretending there's not a million things to do
the words are what
i can make of the jumbled thoughts that fill my brain
my lines and stanzas are a collection
of the little pieces of my life
that i can't seem to get into place
and I think that it's kind of funny
that I can get all of these words together
but not myself.
al Aug 2015
having friends that are older than you can be nice
they've lived, they have advice to give
they make you feel special, mature
but the unfortunate reality of having older friends:
they grow up, they move on and
you're
still
here.
I have friends that are still a part of my life but I rarely see them, and I miss them. I suppose today is one of those days.
al Feb 2015
I have a journal filled with quotes and poems
ones that strike me with emotion
and take my breath away in the moment that I see them.
A thought that excites me is that maybe one day
someone will have a journal like me
and my poems will grace their pages
and be written in someone else's script.
I'd like to leave my mark on the world somehow
so maybe this will be my chance.
sorry, just a little ramble on my wednesday evening
al Feb 2015
There are a lot of things I regret.
Kissing you, for example.
Keeping secrets from friends, that's another.
But mostly, I regret falling for you
opening my heart, only to have it ripped out.
They say everything happens for a reason
but I still find myself regretting everything I've done
and every emotion I've felt.
I mostly wish none of this had ever happened
but would I wish you out of my life? Oh, never.
I guess I'm masochistic like that.
But hey, I can't really blame you for all this.
*Everything happens for a reason, right?
SOS
al Dec 2015
SOS
the gem around my neck
I clutch it like a life preserver
but it still can't save me
from the raging sea and storm
inside my head
I should take the **** thing off. I should also study for finals. LOL
al Jan 2015
Stupid boy.
With your bright eyes and your soft hair.
Stupid boy.
With your laugh that always brings out mine.
Stupid boy.
With your ability to never keep me mad at you, despite it all.
Stupid boy.
With the way you always make me feel.
Stupid girl.
al Jan 2015
You used to say "I love you"
As a friend would do to another
And I'd say "I love you" back
Because that's what friends do.
But then I started to see you as more than a friend
And the "I love you"s came less and less
I guess it makes sense
Because that was when everything changed.
al Mar 2015
tonight I'll make a mistake
for every shot that I take.
HA.
al Feb 2015
I'm in love with the idea of being in love
And just having someone seems great
When you can't have the one you really want.
al Jan 2015
"I love that you think of me
when you're drunk."
al Feb 2015
Some of my poetry was about him
And while none of his was about me
We shared our stanzas, our lines and thoughts
And I got a glimpse inside his head
And it was then that I started to understand
that there are a lot of things we don't understand in this world.
al Apr 2015
Maybe one day every song I hear won't remind me of what I'm trying to forget.
al Mar 2015
What can **** someone?
Depression?
Loneliness?
Curiosity?
Jealousy?
Envy?
Well,­ if these things are true
I should have died long ago.
I wrote this back in February and had been meaning to post it
al Feb 2015
it was a phone call I didn't want
it was a phone call I didn't expect
it was news I didn't want to hear
it was news I didn't see coming
all I could think was why?
the cliche "why do bad things happen to good people?"
couldn't be more true.
cancer *****.
al Jun 2015
There's nothing like being alone at one in the morning to remind you how much you miss someone.
al Mar 2015
you're just an idea
silly for me to ponder, really.
you're far away
and little old me is here.
you're exciting
and I am very simple.
but god, if you're just an idea
then I want to come up with you everyday.
I'm not sure why I even bother. Setting myself up for disappointment.
al Feb 2016
You once told me you thought I was beautiful.
Now I'd tell you I hate myself when I look in the mirror.
You once told me I made you happy.
Now I'd tell you that seeing you only makes me sad.
You once told me you'd get me back to feeling one hundred percent.
Now I'd tell you that you're the reason I'm far from it.
You once told me you missed kissing me when we were apart.
Now I'd tell you I can barely remember the feeling of your lips on mine.
You once told me a lot of things,
and I have a lot to tell you,
but I won't
because words don't seem to mean much anymore.

— The End —