• I want to know

    by  • July 27, 2014 • 1 Comment

    Is it karma why i’m leaving here with a broken heart? Why do i continue to want men simply because i cannot have them? This is not fair. I hate this. It is not my fault he feels the way he does. It is not my fault people fall in love with me so i don’t want to suffer because i don’t feel the same. I can’t tell when last i’ve felt the same. I’ve never kissed someone passionately until I met you. That’s the first time i felt all those lovely things and not feel emotionally claustrophobic from a kiss. I wanted him so badly. He has wanted me for years now because i’m giving him attention finally he is distancing himself. At the sight of me he used to drop everything and scurry to be near me. Cant even contain himself when he is near me. I don’t know what happened. Its not like i slept with him. I am so infatuated with him. I know only time will heal my heart. And everyone’s heart. And the 3-5 guys who are in pain because of me. It is not my fault but i am sorry. I’m sorry they are hurting and i’m sorry they have to g o through this because i know exactly how heavy hearted and crappy they feel.

    Can You Hear Me?

    by  • July 27, 2014 • 0 Comments

    I’m speaking to a brick wall
    and one of these days I’ll know you down
    with nothing but the sound of my voice.

    It wasn’t always there, the wall.
    Or at least I never noticed it.
    So how you could possibly put “us” behind you
    is clearly beyond me.

    That’s why I write.
    I know every word hurts
    That’s the point.
    You slipped these daggers into my heart
    and I would really appreciate it if you stood around
    while I pull them out.
    Carelessly.
    Selfishly.
    I want you to feel my agony
    So damn badly.

    Dad, do you love me?

    by  • July 27, 2014 • 0 Comments

    Dear Dad,

    I’m writing this letter because I want you to understand something. Or more than something because it is a lot. I want you to understand that I LOVE YOU. Do you love me? That’s what I want you to understand. I don’t 100% believe you love me. Why? Glad you asked.

    You’ve NEVER said you love me ONCE IN MY LIFE BY YOURSELF. WHENEVER YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME, it was because I initiated it first. AND you said it in what I took as a MOCKING manner. THAT’S NOT BELIEVABLE. YOU ARE HORRIBLE AT ACTING.

    So, when mom died, I expected that from you, the VERY LEAST, I expected MY FATHER, my biological father to show me love. Because that’s what I wanted to know and learn and cherish and live with. Love. Not this stone-cold emotionless robot or soldier you wanted me to be.

    I seriously was neglected – not just emotionally, but physically! I locked myself in my room for days on end, and you NEVER bothered to check in on me. I just remember the very first day I decided not to talk as much, you asked – no, MICHELLE asked. You just stood by and watched. Why?! Why did you do that to me?! Why don’t you understand teenagers or children in general crave for their parents’ attention?! Did you believe teenagers were the exact opposite? Wanted to get away from their parents? Well, that’s true, too. But, God, you didn’t even show that you wanted me around. You just provided the bare minimum, food and shelter. You were there to pick me up. You were there to answer my questions, but I always had to come to you first. You never came to me, and it slowly killed me inside because I knew that you didn’t want or need me. You didn’t love me. It still kills me to this day, that my own damn father doesn’t love me. And after losing a loving parent, this is just super unfair.

    Luckily, I know what love is, no thanks to you. I found it on mom’s family and your side of the family. I love Derek with all my heart and soul. I trust him completely. He is the one person I hope to never let down again after what I did to him, ignored him, treated him like shit just like you because that’s what I learned, not to love, not to care, just to be and push on, just experience this life and die, no emotional experience. I was to be just a robot. But no, I HAD emotions, I had hatred and dislike and discontent and no satisfaction and loneliness and depression and suicidal thoughts. Do you hear me? Suicidal thoughts. I nearly killed myself over and over, and you only intervened once. Why? Because I hung a noose from my ceiling. What’d you do? You asked. I lied. And you swallowed it up no problem. I scared you. You didn’t do shit.

    And, as far as Michelle goes, I will never love her. She wouldn’t be my friend either. I took what you had to say about your step-dad and applied it to her, but Grandpa Craig was MUCH different than Michelle because he had children. Michelle only had dogs. Michelle treated me and Derek and all sorts of other people like dogs. You didn’t do shit. Again. You just let her be because you loved her, right? Do you love Michelle? There are no signs of physical affection. You just talk to each other, not even making eye contact about other people, usually complaining, most definitely complaining about other people. I don’t want that relationship to role model after! I want a happy and healthy relationship! One that involves physical affection and spontaneousness and whatever, you don’t care.

    So, this is my letter to you. I want to be a loving person. I want a loving father, a loving role model because you were my role model for years and years and years, but that turned out to be a mistake because all I mimicked was your lack of caring in general. I want a loving father. Will you be my loving father?

    “Love”,
    Mic

    dysphoria

    by  • July 27, 2014 • 2 Comments

    It really sucks knowing that there’s no possible way for me to be who I really want to be. Even if I spend my life devoting myself to the change i’ll always be male, no way to really change my sex. No way to be raised as and then live my life as a woman. No way to experience a relationship or even intercourse as who I want to be.
    No way to give birth.

    Despair & Hope

    by  • July 27, 2014 • 0 Comments

    Today I woke up somewhat jolly and comical as usual. Then the day turned into a nightmare; hours, minutes, seconds, of begging a friend not to commit suicide. I am so heart broken tonight. Only God can console my heart at this point. I can only hope that love broke through the barrier of darkness and despair my friend is in. I gave it my all.

    Without You…

    by  • July 27, 2014 • 0 Comments

    Dear Mike,

    Without you… What do I do? Where do I turn for help? For someone to listen… Or to help me forget. To do lines of cocaine with, to get lost in a haze of weed smoke? To get drunk on red wine? To have sex over and over again until the push of dawn…

    Without you… I am happier and healthier than I have been in years. Maybe I am going through yet another detox, of you, of my family, of everything bad that used to be in my life. I am more beautiful than I have ever been… Or close to it. I think the onky thing that could make me beautiful is the sound of silence and nature. It feeds my soul.

    I would be lying if I didn’t say that I still think of you, I do. More and more, everything is fading to a memory… Hazey and distant, but somethings remain crystal clear, your betrayal(s), the love I had for your daughter, the proposal, your ring that I have hidden from anyone other than me, my eyes. It was something you had made for me, and for me only.

    I know you broke into my house and took my favorite necklace. The one you knew someone else gave me. You left your bloody fingerprints all over my soul, and it was my soul you stripped bare. Oddly, I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything because it revealed to me who you truly are, and how strong I am, but I miss you.

    In this wreckage of everything, I miss you. You were mine, for borrowed days that I never bothered to count until they were over… And I wonder, do you miss me? Do I haunt you? Are there traces of me through your mind, fingerprints on your soul. Sometimes I think of making you come back again, except I couldn’t stand losing you again. I might kill myself.

    The truth is… The truth I can only write herr and whisper to myself late at night… Is that there will never bee another person that I loved like I loved you. That I don’t want there to be. There is something so tragically beautiful about our story.

    We were monsters together, human, until I realized that you were darker than I could ever imagine you could be. I miss you and your darkness.

    I wonder if you ever think about me, do you miss me? I think about all of the time we wasted, the children we conceived, both of mixed together and I would do anything to go back and save that life.

    Do you still come by? Drive by my house and wish you were inside? Do you ever receive a call from an unknown numbet and wonder if it was me? I do, all the time.

    I am dating others now, and there was even someine I was almost serious with, but you were still there in the back of my mind.

    For next ‘story time’

    by  • July 26, 2014 • 0 Comments

    To my beautiful wife,

    The first few years of being your husband have been exactly what I expected…perfection. I mean we have fights just like any couple. They never last long, but I still don’t like it. That’s the reason I’m writing this letter, if you should ever come across this. Sometimes I feel like you don’t completely understand me, and I know that’s partially my fault because there are some things I’ve never been able to tell you. Things I don’t tell anyone. But being my wife and best friend you should know everything about me. I’ll tell you this in person, just like every thing i write here. Sometimes I just need to formulate my thoughts first, to know what I really want to say.

    We’ve always avoided talking about past relationships. Or at least I have. You know about my ex immediately prior to you. Well the girl I had been dating for awhile. I think its important for you to know about some of the other women in my life that impacted me. Because I have always had trouble trusting women. And it carries over to you to a lesser extent. It’s just always there in the back of my mind, my prior experiences.

    I guess I have to start with my mother. Even as a child I had problems with her. She imposed all her desires on me, her religious beliefs, she made me do a lot of things I was really never interested in just because she had wanted that for herself. As I became a teenager we started fighting all the time. I was becoming a lot like my dad, almost in every way, and they were coming to the end of their marriage so I think some of that got transferred to me. Eventually she drove me away. I moved out of the house at an early age because I couldn’t stand living with her anymore. Then my parents got divorced. Because of her the divorce dragged on for almost 10 years before it was finally complete. There was one time, I was at my dad’s, and I wrapped my little brother around a barbell using socks as restraints. It sounds stupid now but I was making him into a luau pig. Anyways I thought it was funny at the time and I only left him like that for like 5 mins. My mom found out and called the police. They woke me up at my dad’s one day to “investigate a child abuse complaint”. I had to get lectured by an officer for nearly 45 mins in front of my parents. Even the officer knew and acknowledged that my mom was doing this to gain leverage in the custody proceedings against my dad but it was an official complaint so I guess he had to ‘scare me straight’. I was humiliated but even more angry. Angrier than I’ve ever been before. I remember the side of my face was actually twitching uncontrollably. That had never happened before.

    In kindergarten I had a penchant for biting girls. This one girl in particular. I really don’t remember why. I don’t know what that means but just thought Id put that out there. I was also eating dirt then so maybe it’s insignificant.

    In first grade I gave a girl a valentines card. She sent me back an “anonymous” note that said “I hate you and I hope you die”. I was like 6 fucking years old. I never really would have thought that would have affected me, but then I realized I had blocked that incident out of my consciousness for like the next 15 years.

    I didn’t talk to girls much growing up. They made me angry for some reason, and I just didn’t understand them. I had little crushes here and there but nothing noteworthy. In high school I had my first girlfriend. She went to school with me, and had dated a couple of my friends in the past, but I didn’t really start talking to her until after she moved one summer so we didn’t go to school together anymore. She lived a couple hundred miles away so I didn’t get to see her very often, but we talked all the time, and when we talked we would talk for hours. I had never felt so close to someone before. This went on for a few months. Then one night she started to tell me about this girl she was hanging out with all the time. I knew from fb they were like best friends, but she told me they were a lot more than that. I was crushed. This girl lived in the same city as her, so she was getting the regular physical aspect of the relationship I wasn’t getting, plus the thought of sharing the emotional connection I had with her drove me mad. I got drunk for the first time that night. Wrote her a nasty email. We talked a few times after that but I never saw her again. The pain I felt, the inadequacy I felt as a man losing my first girlfriend to another girl was marginally assuaged when a few years later she had married and had a kid with a guy. It still hurt a lot. I think that was the first time I’d ever had my heart broken.

    The next significant woman was my girlfriend for most of college. You mostly know enough about her already. She was sweet and very caring. We NEVER fought. Like not even once. I guess looking back I kinda dominated the relationship, though I didn’t mean to. She was just either completely incapable or unwilling to express her emotions to me. She bottled it all up, all the things I did that pissed her off. One day she just left. No lengthy explanation. Just “People change”. And that breakup occurred via text. After being together for 2 and a half years.

    After her, I started something of a regular booty call with a girl I had met years before. I never told you about her because I think you might have known her. The last time we ‘hung out’ was about a week before I met you. As soon as we met, I knew I was done with her and all other women for that matter, I had found my true love.

    So thank you Carmen, for being patient with me, even when you may not have understood why that patience was necessary. I wish I had told you all of this before, but its important you understand. I love you for showing me that there is something better than what I had assumed relationships were like. That not all women would take advantage of and betray me the way I was accustomed to. That the relative loneliness I had felt my entire life was worth it just to be available for when I met you. It changed my life. It really did.

    Everyday

    by  • July 26, 2014 • 0 Comments

    ……I come on here hoping that, he has written to me, to tell me how he feels. What is the bloody point?

    He never will, he has his life back, it’s as if 2012 and 2013 didn’t happen. He has his cosy life.

    When he speaks to me I hear no love and fun in his voice anymore, only regret.

    I’m tired of hoping there is still something there with him. We are still best friends. My love is turning to anger and frustration, as he clearly doesn’t want me anymore.

    I’m walking away from him, as much as it will hurt me, (because I will always love him) and it still hurts me now. I’m too good for him. He isn’t worthy of my time or love. And I realise maybe I will be better off without him.

    Time to walk away Jim, is that what you want? One last chance.

    Suzy