Month: March 2020

Etched loosely in your memory,
Was an inaudible lost poem
And in mine were the rest of the verses,
You couldn’t remember even when waking.

I can still hear my voice tremble,
Trying to makeshift the lines to
Correct its order and there you were
Collecting new ones, discarding our old sacred vows.

Forgetting our love that is forever
Thumbtacked to my heart’s floors.
The words quietly scream in agony,
For you to remember just once in waking

An inaudible lost love poem waiting hopelessly and helplessly for your magnetic touch!

Dear B,

I love you with all my heart and soul, but being trapped inside with you and our toddler is beginning to drive me insane.

I have felt like I was losing my identity for a while now- lost in the ether of things that ‘used to be’.

I am sad, and I am lonely. I know that I so blessed to have you and the best friend that so many people wish that they could have. I have an amazing smart, kind, wonderful and beautiful little boy! How did I get so lucky to have him as my child? I will never know.

I am alone now, and sad.

I used to have identity in my work. In being a provider. In earning more than you. In beauty, youth and appeal. CHarisma. Now I am just a tired old mom who’s eyes are surrounded by fine lines, and they are dim inside. The sparkle has disappeared. The joy, the enthusiasm that I had for life.

No one ever tells you that this is what happens when you get everything you want. So I set the bar higher… Trying to achieve more and more, but being unable to maintain balance in my life, I quiet. I DO NOT quiet anything ever. I am finally finding my way out of this darkness, and then this goddamn plague struck, and I am stuck inside not being able to pursue my goals.

I have sooo much to do inside, and so many hobbies that have been neglected, but most are impossible to do with a toddler running around. I just can’t keep wasting money, or take the risk, of him being in daycare at this point. It is unfair to him, to me and to society, let alone our bank account.

Speaking of our bank account, I don’t even know how much is in it! I don’t even have access to it. I do know roughly, as we share information and statements openly between us, but still…

I have these huge bills, and you are acting like it is all my fault. Motherfucker, that is what happens when a small business is hit with the PLAGUE!!! We are all fucked, screwed, adois!!

And now, I am expected to be stay at home mother of the year, a role I never willingly signed up for. The irony is that I imagined what it would be like to be a stay at home mom, and did want to do it at s certain point in my life.

I just didn’t expect to be now.

So what am I going to do?

I am going to make the best of this entire shitstorm that they call America. Fuck the Plague.

Dear You,

I still find myself replaying that Thursday morning in that parking lot in my head over and over. You have every right to never want to see or speak to me again. What I did was awful, inexcusable, and cruel.

I apologize for my actions.

I lied to you only because I thought that telling you the truth would only have led me into a spiral much deeper than I’d ever experienced. And, I thought you’d never understand. So I took your kindness and empathy for granted. But I know it still doesn’t matter 2.5 years later.

I fell for you because of your empathy and kindness. I fell for you because you sat with me during the beginning of this spiral and I thought if something bigger wasn’t happen, you wouldn’t take my spiral seriously. Now thinking back on it, it wasn’t your job to. I fell for you because it felt like you were the first one to really see me for more than just another person passing through. I fell for you because of the kind soul that you are.

I couldn’t tell you that then and I still can’t today.

I hope you’re happy now.

Best Regards,
Grey

Troy,
I miss you so much. It’s been six years since we last saw each other and for some reason I thought this year would be different. According to my guides 28 or year 2020, seemed like that would all change. The year isn’t over yet. So who knows what’s in store. Now I could be thinking extremely faulty but I just can’t shake how I feel for you. I know the feelings are one-sided and not mutual.

I still check my email everyday to see if you’ll reach out. Especially since, I blocked you on everything else and my number has changed.

I feel so pathetic writing on this but it’s the only way I can get this out. I know I need to completely forget about you. I do and I will. When? I don’t know. After all I think about you still everyday. I hope you’re happy and healthy. Take good care of yourself.

Missing you always,
Amore

Tara,

So this is it. I kind of thought I’d never get here, that this place was going to hold me hostage forever. Of course that’s dramatic. As this is inevitably going to be too.

I don’t really know where to begin. I hate when situations have me having trouble finding the words. I really don’t think that I’d have as strong of a chance of making it without you. I have tried to get as much of your insight as I can because I realized that you were really making me see things differently. Made me realize that I wanted to be different. That I wanted to live. (Despite nearly killing myself over you) Which is why I never wanted to get up and leave your office. (Well one of the reasons) Seeing things through clearer lenses even though it hurt to start getting there, I needed that. And everything felt foggy and unreal until you started helping me put the pieces together. And you wouldn’t just let me not uncover the things that I didn’t want to. You pushed me to work harder and give this whole thing more and even though that pissed me off sometimes it was necessary. I realized that you really put the meaning into “method to the madness.” I was sure that there was no saving me. I wrote something about that once. Because I just felt like nothing was ever going to change, that everything was too messed up to come back from. I’ve spent a lot of time feeling really hopeless. But somehow things are different. You flicked the lights back on for me and yelled at me to get the fuck up. You made me see why all the red lights always look damn green to me.

I have a lot that I want to be in life. But I really want to be even close to someone like you. I thought that I knew what impressive people were, but you changed all of my definitions of that. (You even made me see that my dad wasn’t all that which is wild.) Any time it was said to me that I was anything like you, whether it be that I looked like you or had your sense of humor, I took that as a huge compliment. I admire you as a person so much. I’ve always seen how strong you are, how despite saying you have “no soul” you care, how you carry yourself, how you talk to people, how you think, how you’re smart as all hell. You have one of the greatest minds of all time, I’m sure of this. You are something else. You drive me insane (sometimes, well most of the time) but I think meeting you was necessary. And (yeah here’s that dramatic shit but it’s real) if anyone’s impact on my life could save me, it would be yours.

I really didn’t deserve to meet you. But I can tell you that I especially have no ragurts. I would get snatched and kidnapped and almost die and break my hand and miss out on Dunkin Donuts all over again. Because it meant I got to get here and get better and realize things. (Obviously could’ve gone about things better but hey I wouldn’t be me without it being a little crazy.)

I hate that I’m always going to be light years away from you but I have to appreciate this for what it was and let go somehow. I’m convinced that there isn’t anyone else out there like you. You’ve made me want to be happy, to enjoy the sun and sweets and light things. You’re a very rare person to come across. I hope that you always feel loved and happy and beautiful and everything good this life has to offer. I believe that everything happens the way it’s supposed to but I can’t help but wish that I met you in some other life.

You’re right that I really don’t forget things. I run them over and over in my head. And so luckily I remember a lot of our conversations (but also the random stuff), I remember playing with play dough in your office. I remember you dropping your keys after repeatedly spinning them around your fingers. I remember you comparing me to a duck. I remember spilling ginger ale on myself in the hospital and you joking that I should be good at drinking things by now. I remember you gave me a mint and said that if I told rian foster that you’d take all my left shoes. You’re really a weirdo. (In a good way.)

You inspire me to be a version of myself that I didn’t know existed. Even half unconscious, messed up me knows that just having you with me made me feel so much better. Hence why asking for you was the first thing I said when I woke up. I hope that everyone who gets to have you in their life for real never forgets how lucky they are.

I can’t thank you enough for the countless hours you’ve spent with me, not just in the cad but in the damn hospital, digging through all of my bullshit with me, dealing with my starry eyed self. Tara, thank you for not giving up on me despite all the “weird stuff.” For being able to make me laugh in shitty situations. It made me feel better knowing that someone like you was rooting for me, was there for me.

I definitely won’t forget about you or the things you taught me. I hope you know just how much you’ve helped me. I really could never express it enough, even with being a wizard with words and all.

I don’t know how to end this. I wish there was a good enough way to.

Thank you again for everything Tara. I hope to see you on the flip side. Xx

Dear Owner of LINS,

I love you. I love you for putting this site back up, even though you so devastatingly lost all of the work you put into it before.

I came to realize that your site was a point of sanity in my sometimes chaotic life. A place I would often retreat to in the middle of the night to say the thoughts I could never say out loud. To empty myself onto this ‘piece of virtual paper’, and send all of my feelings out into the universe, knowing that someone somewhere would most likely read it, and yet it would most likely never be anyone I know.

I suppose AA meetings and the like are supposed to hold the same appeal… But they don’t. I don’t want anyone to see me. To classify me by my appearance, my race, my cultural background, financial status or any of the other multitude of things that are so quickly used to someone up and dismiss them.

My thoughts have been chaotic and disorganized since this site was gone. Tonight, in the midst of everything going on… Fighting a breakdown, and struggling to hold onto hope, any hope… I came to this site to see if by any chance it was still up.

Thank you… Thank you so much… All of your work was not in vain. You have no idea the kind of impact you have had on the world. So much of us are trapped, trapped holding everything inside of us- because frankly, we are a fucked up mess that looks extremely good most of the time. We are the pillars of our families, we hold so many people up that we cannot let anyone see us crack, because then they would crack too.

I am so extremely alone, despite being surrounded by people. This site is the only place I can go to empty my feelings, and just for one minute not feel alone.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

You are an amazing person. Believe this. It is true.

Thank you so much!

Nikki,

When I came back home in July of last year after spending 13 months away, I planned to start working as a way to stay the fuck away from home and make my own money to get ready for leaving this place. I remember the night I sent in my application, my mom had made me cry on the phone, and I remember thinking that I had to get out of here and really start thinking about me. I wonder where we would be if that never happened.

I liked you from the beginning. I also liked him from the beginning. I don’t remember what drew me to you at first. It was like you didn’t draw me into you in a conscious way, I just naturally knew you mattered to me. That I liked you. I know I did nothing but love on you for the better part of a year. I showed you that I was nothing but together. But you see, I grew to be lying about that more and more.

I’m so sorry, Nikki. I’m so sorry that I once again had to destroy something good. This is my pattern. I have been doing it for as long as I can remember. It’s something I’m aware of, not that I’m making excuses. I recreate the trauma and chaos that I’ve always known in my life perpetually. If you know anything about PTSD – I compulsively recreate trauma. Put myself through it.

This isn’t meant to be a pity me sob story, at the end of the day I am responsible for me. I am responsible for my actions. I am responsible, I am accountable. I control me. But the twisted things I want to do often overpower me. And believe it or not, I think this is still a process of me getting better. I want to be better.

Nikki, I am sorry that you were on the receiving end of this. It tore me up for days. It tore me up the whole time it was happening. I was so sick, it was all over me. Again, this is not about me, I cannot imagine how you felt and feel.

I’m not going to parade around like I’m innocent, and I’m sorry if it’s coming across like I am. I am terrified of this. I am horrified at myself for allowing it. I am disgusted at these things I did. I am so sick to my stomach about it. But I emulate someone stronger than myself so I tried to control my emotions and stay neutral. As much as I fought against getting emotional, as all I am is emotions. I wanted to fall before you and beg for your forgiveness. I wanted to see all that damn pain leave you. I wanted the warmth that I intended to melt that coldness towards me. I never wanted to be on the receiving end of that, and for a rightfully so reason. It felt like my upset stomach was poured into one of the soup pots and stirred by your hands.

And I know this has to feel like a crash you hear in the kitchen, running towards it just as you first heard it and falling on broken glass. Everything you thought you knew falling to pieces in front of you. And Nikki, I’m so sorry.

You have every right to feel the way you do. I wish I could talk to you. I wish I could pour my heart out to you and tell you all of everything like it’s something that would help, like it’s something that would make you see and understand and forgive me. God, I know that can’t happen. I know now I will only ever be a very shit person in your already full circle of pretty shit people. I am now something I never wanted to be to you, someone who doesn’t treat you in a way you deserve. And that was everything I always spoke against to you. I called myself your friend. Looked you in the eyes as I said it. And turned around and stabbed you in the back as I never even gave you a warning.

Nikki I am so sorry. You don’t even know. I will never be able to show you. I sabotage everything good. I put myself through pain on purpose. I have never known stability. I’m sorry.

It was bound to happen. I was drawn in since day one. This was so strange, as it usually manages to be. All the weird stuff. I’m still so caught up over you. But there was a package deal that caught my eye.

I liked both of them. A lot. Heard they were together. Had been for five years. Had four dogs together. I became close with both of them. Heard they broke up. Had been wanting to make something happen. With both. But with her. That would be a dream.

I got you. Where I wanted you. And I got her. Where I never wanted her. We did this. It happened. It happened in her house. It happened basically on her front lawn. I betrayed her. Knowing her heart. Knowing how she still loved him. Still coincides with him.

I just couldn’t help myself. I got caught. She knows and it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart that it doesn’t even matter that it breaks mine. Hers. I hurt her. I hurt her and she’s still this beautiful presence that I don’t even deserve to be around. I never deserved to know her. I never deserved to touch her.

Does she see that this is hurting me? I don’t even care about hiding it at this point, I may be good in my areas of manipulation. I may have a particular set of skills. But I am still someone who is all feelings. I am still someone with a heart. I am still someone who cares about her deeply.

I was so overwhelmed with her again tonight, I saw her and she said hello to me with her sad eyes that used to look at me with light just a week ago. I crushed it under my feet repeatedly. Crushed out the light that I enjoyed so much. That carried me through some low points. That I looked forward to.

And right after I came back inside from talking to him, after how earlier I had broke down in tears after that comment was made to me, that I know she heard, that I know she saw cut me, that I know cut her too. I didn’t even care if she knew. It wasn’t even the comment. It was all those damn overwhelming emotions, a buildup. I broke down from how I feel about this. Cried. Went to be alone. Fell sort of weak.

She helped me with a problem. She made something happen for me. Something small but she helped me. She was sweet, she was sad, and I missed her. I miss her. I was nervous and thanked her and had my hand on my neck. I kept zoning out. The girl with your name was there for a midnight shift. She kept asking me what was wrong. What was wrong I couldn’t tell her and I had to fight every urge to chase her out the door. To look her in the eyes and tell her how sorry I am. To absolve my guilt. To have her back. But I never will. I stabbed her in the back and I’m sick about it.

We were in close quarters just the two of us. We had walked into the bathroom at the same time. I heard her blow her nose and it brought me back to how she cried. I washed my hands beside her and it made me wish that I could just wash this off of me. Off of her. As much as I tried to fight it I couldn’t bring my head up and risk meeting her eyes. She took a deep breath and I felt tears well up in my eyes. She was right beside me, so close, and in a matter of no time at all she is so far from me. And it’s on me. I fucked up.

I told him that my intentions were never to hurt her. He said in the same sad tone that she’s had lately, “no one ever has bad intentions in a situation like this.” I know. I know that my intentions don’t matter. It was still a decision I made and I am no baby. I know it was wrong.

He told me that this was an explosive situation from the beginning. And I know. I’ve always known that. And even just talking about it, my mind replays what it looked like to see the pieces from that explosion hit her in the face. Seeing pieces of it cut her skin, stick out of her. It was like seeing someone brutally cut open in front of you.

But then I learned what you did to me.

But in the end, I got the upper hand.