Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2012-05-28 16:01
Subject:	Thinky Thoughts
Security:	Public

I've spent a lot of time thinking this weekend. I've had a lot of time to myself, and though I haven't descended into the black, it's definitely made me pretty contemplative. I'm 38 years old right now, and I think I'm finally accepting the fact that I'm meant to be alone. I don't want that to sound like I've given up, because I haven't. I just think that some people aren't meant to share their lives with other people, and I'm pretty sure I'm one of them. I was watching My So Called Life yesterday, and there was this scene at the end when Jordan Catalano walked up to Angela and they're walking down the hall and he sort of unobtrusively reaches for her hand and they walk away together holding hands. It got me thinking. No one has ever done that to me. No one has ever reached for my hand like that, casual but not, and walked with me anywhere. No one has ever told me that I'm beautiful, no one has ever looked at me like I am, and I'm not saying that it's anyone else's responsibility to make me feel beautiful, just that no one ever has. I know I'm not especially pretty, especially now that I'm so overweight. My face is average at best, and I'd never win any contests for being pretty. I'm okay with that. I'm not disfigured or anything, and mostly I think I'm a good person, which is what's supposed to be more important, right?

Anyways.

So I'm thinking about My So Called Life and holding hands and things like that, and I start thinking about people getting married and creating families and just feeling so comfortable with someone that it's not weird to want to be around them all the time. I've never had that. Ever. I've had crushes on people before, and I've gotten butterflies and that stupid smile that comes from thinking about someone I like. I've been love-clumsy, I've worn clothes with the intention of impressing someone, I've taken extra care with make-up. I've written horrible poetry, I've driven past houses on my way home from somewhere, I've reread texts over and over again just because they made me feel good and they made me know that someone was thinking about me, however briefly. I even believe I've been in love before. But I've never been in the type of relationship where it's mutual. Which is not to say that no one has ever had feelings for me; I know they have. People have been attracted to me before, and people have asked me out and people have even wanted me. But it's never been enough. I've never been enough. I'm not going to lie and pretend like that doesn't make me sad sometimes. I wish I could find someone who looked forward to spending time with me. I wish there was someone who would get excited about building a life with me, about making a home and filling it with books and things that are important to us. I would love to find someone who made me want to take pictures instead of hiding from the camera all the time. I would like to find someone who wanted to watch movies with me or go for long car rides or plan trips to all the places. I would like to know that there's someone out there who got excited when I sent them a text, that just seeing my name pop up made them smile. But I also know that a lot of the time I like being on my own. And I think that maybe I'm meant to be on my own.

I'm kind of a weirdo. Not in the trendy hipster way, but in the old-fashioned nerdy way. I say things sometimes that make people give me The Look. And I don't even say half the things I think. I know my family thinks I'm...unique. And I'm okay with that most of the time. It suits me to be the observer when we do group things. Actually, being the observer suits me most of the time. I'm quiet, and part of that's being shy, but part of that is just being comfortable in silence. I don't feel the need to talk all the time, and I can go longer than most people with uncomfortable silences, mostly because they aren't uncomfortable for me.

I'm 38 years old, and there's some crazy statistic that I'm more likely to get struck by lightning or win the lottery than I am to get married at this age. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about that. I don't especially love the statistic, whatever it is, but at the same time, I don't have any desire to go out and actively look for a mate. I know that I'll never meet anyone if I don't go out and try, but the idea of going to bars or signing up for an online dating service just...makes me shake my head. I don't want to do that. I know no one is going to just show up, I know I haven't met anyone who would want to be with me in a romantic sense for a long time, and that pretty much limits my chances even further. I wish it was different, and yet I don't know what to do about it. That's not exactly true; I DO know what to do about it, I just don't particularly want to do what I have to do. Which is why I think I'm probably meant to be alone. Not in any sort of martyr way, just in an accepting way.

I'm not sure how old I was when I realized that there was no prince planning to whisk me away to his house on the beach, who would work hard and make lots of money so I could stay at home and have babies while writing a novel as they napped. It's a lame one as far as fantasies go, but for a really long time that's what I thought I wanted. Sometimes a part of me still does. At least the house on the beach and novel writing part. As I saw my friends get boyfriends and then husbands, though, I understood that no one was coming for me. I spent longer than I probably should have feeling sorry for myself and wondering what it was that made my friends so much better than I was. And then I tried to believe that they weren't better, they had just found their soulmates sooner than I had. My time was coming because being alone wasn't an option. People had relationships and got married, so I would too, no matter how long it took. Letting go of that has been really difficult. Sometimes when I'm feeling lonelier than usual, I tell myself that he's still out there, the one person who I'm meant to be with, the one who gets me and who will reach for my hand without even thinking about it. But I don't think he is. When I look really deeply inside myself and ask myself what I truly believe, I don't think he's out there. Or if he is, he's already found someone else. I'm not sure what to do with that information other than to just accept it. So I guess that's what I do.

For awhile a couple years ago, I thought things might be changing. I thought I had met someone who could possibly be it. Like It with a capital I. Things were sharper, in a way, I was sharper. I began to actually envision what it could be like to picture myself with another person in the long-term. We didn't agree on everything, but that was okay, because the level of caring was great enough that the differences became good things rather than obstacles. It was easier for me to imagine how things could be with someone when I knew that I would still have me. I'd still have the time that made me happy. Time to myself, time with my books, time with my family...And I wonder if that's why it didn't work. I wonder if I'm too independent to have a real relationship. I don't want my other half; I'm perfectly whole as I am, thanks. I want someone to complement me, and whom I complement. And I think that's over reaching.

Or maybe I'm just too fucked up for anyone to want to be around for any amount of time.

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2012-04-30 15:04
Subject:	And that, my friend, is closure.
Security:	Public

Dear A,

I've been struggling today, more so than I have been for the last little while, and it's taken me most of the day to figure out why. I'm disappointed. I'm disappointed in you, I'm disappointed in me, I'm disappointed in other people. You made me feel like such an idiot, and now you're continuing to make me doubt myself, pretty much every day. I'm a big believer in instincts. I use my heart a lot more than my head to make decisions, even when I know it's going to get me hurt. And I trusted you. My heart told me (and still tells me, to my shame) that you are a good person. My heart told me that you were in an incredible amount of pain and my heart told me to help you. And then I found out that you stole from me. Not the store, but from me.

Fuck. I can't do this.

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2012-04-07 18:37
Subject:
Security:	Public

Friendship is a weird thing. Even now, even after all these years, it's still a strange balance that I can't always navigate. How hard do I push? I've sent 2 emails and neither one has been answered. Am I supposed to send another? Or should I do what I want, which is go to bed and hope to get some sleep tonight since I didn't get any last night? Am I supposed to feel guilty that my job isn't like yours, and that I don't have weekends off and that I have to get up super early and that I'm tired? Am I supposed to feed into your passive-aggressiveness and keep prodding at you until you decide that I've donned the appropriate amount of guilt and answer me back? I don't know. To me, friendship isn't supposed to be like that. Yes, it took me a couple hours to email you back last night. I had other things to take care of before I got on the computer. I can't sit at home in front of a screen for hours at a time the way you can. I can't do it because I have too many other things to do, and I can't do it because I don't want to. It doesn't mean that I don't love you. It doesn't mean I don't want to talk to you and find out how your day was. It means that I have a life outside of the internet. And it makes me feel bad that it makes you feel bad when I'm not always here. When it counts, I am. But I don't have the time or interest to sit here for half a day, not even for writing. Which I know is also part of the problem. And I keep trying to figure out how to fix that part of things, but I haven't gotten there yet. Probably because I know it's not going to go well. But that's not what this is about - at least not for me. For me, this is about now, and how I don't know what to do. What I want to do is turn the computer off, hope you're out doing something fun, and go to bed. I don't know if that's the right thing or not. I don't want to make things worse, but at the same time, I don't want to play games. What would you do if you were me?

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2012-03-28 21:48
Subject:
Security:	Public

I just wish someone cared.

Poster:	neversent
Date:	2012-03-25 19:57
Subject:
Security:	Public

I haven't written for awhile, but that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about you. I tried not to, just because I thought it would make my days easier. It didn't work. It didn't make my days easier, and I didn't stop thinking about you. So I stopped. I remember learning about the stages of grief, and I think I'm finally coming to the end of them. It took awhile, didn't it?

But here we go.

1. Shock/Denial: I'm not sure this was really grief, but I know I definitely felt both of these things when I started realizing what it was I felt for you. It wasn't anything I had ever given consideration to before, and I had less than no idea of what to do with the feelings. How the hell was I supposed to deal with feeling attraction, excitement, infatuation with a woman? I have lesbian friends; I have ever since I was in high school, so it wasn't like it was something new to me. It wasn't like it was something I judged. I just never expected to feel it myself at the age of 30. It was weird, and looking back, I imagine it was weird to be on the receiving end of it. I don't know for sure, but I wouldn't be surprised if my behavior towards you changed at that time. Shock. Denial. Bam.

2. Pain/Guilt: This one's pretty easy for me. The pain and guilt that I felt (and still feel) after I said some things that came from a place of such huge depression are just enormous. Someday, I hope both diminish somewhat, but I don't know if they will. It's my biggest regret, and it's the thing that makes me the angriest about my depression. It's not meant to be an excuse; I know I made a mistake and I own up to that. But I don't think I would have ever done it if I had been less lonely, less isolated, less depressed...

3. Anger/Bargaining: I was angry at you for a long time. Hurt. But also angry. As low as my self esteem is at times, I felt like I deserved better than what you gave me. More of an explanation for why you vanished. Even if it was because I made things weird, I felt like you owed me an explanation. I'm not a bad person, and sometimes I felt like you treated me like one. The bargaining...I don't know. I guess I bargained with myself more than you, telling myself that I wouldn't email you or text you or wait for you, and then as soon as I did that, you would email me or text me or reach out to me.

4. Depression/Isolation: Um. This one couldn't be more obvious. You were the catalyst for the first major depressive episode I ever had. You were the reason I went to the doctor, you were the reason I did a lot of things. Not you-you, but my feelings for you and how they made me feel. Realizing that you weren't going to be a part of my life the way I thought I wanted you to be was the loneliest thing I've ever been through. Realizing what I wanted and what I was never going to have was shattering. You were shattering.

5. The Upward Turn: Realizing I could handle being friends with you again. Getting back into contact slowly but surely, but not getting too close. Holding myself back to keep both of us comfortable. It wasn't easy, but it's been working for the last couple years.

6. Reconstruction/Working Through: Realizing that we could be friends and that I could move on. I was okay with you moving on. I'm not going to lie and say it didn't (and doesn't occasionally) hurt, but I'm okay with it. There is life after a broken heart and I'm trying to live it. I may not ever feel the way I feel about you about anyone else ever gain, but I'm okay. Or getting there.

7. Acceptance: I'm probably doing this one wrong, but over the last week or so I've finally accepted the fact that I love you. I will most likely always love you. I will never have a relationship with you in a romantic sense, but I can have a relationship with you. And I might end up not ever getting married because I never feel the same kind of love for anyone like this, but that's okay. It was a gift to meet you, it's been a gift to love you, and I'm not going to try to deny that gift any longer. What you choose to do with it is your business.

I love you. So there.

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2012-02-14 14:15
Subject:	Do you think I am asking too much?
Security:	Public

It would be easy to be sad today. Easier still to be bitter. I'm not either. Despite the fact that I'm alone, as I've been for almost every Valentine's Day, I'm feeling hopeful today. I didn't get what I'd hoped for, and I don't even believe that my hopes were terribly high. But it's okay. It's all part of the letting go process, and I think I'm making progress with it. I have hopes, to be sure, but they're reasonable hopes, and I'm not falling apart because they weren't realized. It would have been so easy, and that's what makes the letting go easier. It would have been so easy and you didn't rise to the challenge. The fault lies with you, not me, and I honestly believe that now. I can see it now. Instead of wallowing in what I wished for, I decided to write out a list of what I want. And what I'm trying to believe I deserve. Maybe seeing it in writing will help me to go after it.

I want someone who knows that sometimes the words are important. Simple words that don't take long to say, but that can have a lasting impact. Happy Valentine's Day. I love you. Short sentences, long meaning.

I want someone who will sit with me on the couch and watch a movie. And will then drag me off the couch to go for a bike ride. I want someone who will hold my hand and smile at me for no reason other than being happy to be with me.

I want someone who doesn't ask me to quit smoking, but makes me want to do it anyway.

I want someone who wants to plan trips to places neither of us has been. I want someone who wants to be with me, but who wants to be alone sometimes, too.

I want someone who pushes me, who accepts my opinions but who also makes me think about different perspectives. I want someone who challenges me in some way every single day.

I want someone who will love me even first thing in the morning when I'm not very loveable.

I want to feel the weight of someone's skin against mine and feel safe and turned on instead of afraid. I want someone who will let me rest my head on their shoulder.

I want someone who will write me something that's just mine.

I want someone whose mind wanders to me at random times throughout the day. I want someone who's thinking about me right now.

Do you think I am asking too much?

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2012-02-01 20:15
Subject:	Surrounded by Nothing.
Security:	Public
Mood:	worried

"Surround yourself with people who support you."

Simple advice, really, but less simple when trying to put it into practice. I've felt myself slipping a little the last few days, and I'm sure part of it's hormonal, but I'm equally sure that part of it isn't. I pride myself on being there for the people I love. Which is not to say that I think I'm the perfect friend; I don't by any means. But I try really hard to be aware of what's going on in their lives, being perceptive to their moods, checking in more when I know they're down. Lately I've been feeling there's not a lot of reciprocation going on. At the same time, I'm not sure that I'm doing a very good job with one of my friends. And I really need to talk to someone who's not directly involved, but I haven't even bothered to ask since I can't get them to comment on the mundane shit. I have no reason right now to think they'll respond to something serious.
I guess I'll just talk to myself this time. A. I don't know what to do about her. I don't know if there's anything I can do. She's in trouble. She's been in trouble for awhile now, and by while I mean over a year. But it's getting worse. On an almost daily basis. Her stories didn't make me question her until recently, but now I don't trust anything she says. People are talking about her at work, talking like it's a joke, but it's not. I've tried talking to her, I've tried to help her, I've tried to tell her that I think she needs to see a doctor for her depression. She won't listen to me. Right now I think she's so far gone that she's become delusional, and I'm not sure she even knows how outrageous her lies have become. I'm afraid to keep pushing at her because I'm terrified she'll hurt herself or kill herself when the house of cards comes tumbling down. And it's going to ~ it's already started. She's my friend and I will be there for her when it happens, but I want to help her before then. I want to somehow warn her of how bad it's going to get, but I don't know how. I honestly don't know if she even realizes what she's doing anymore, like I think she might actually believe what she's telling people. I can't imagine what kind of pain she's in right now...actually, that's not entirely true. I've been in that kind of pain before; my reaction to it was just completely different. She has to know things are coming to a head, and I think about how scared she must be, how alone she must feel...I want to help her. It makes my heart hurt when people talk about her, and the thing is, this is the stuff they're saying when I'm around. What are they saying when I'm not there? And how far am I supposed to go? I consistently check in with her, I push her gently and not-so-gently about getting help, I try to let her know by my actions that I'm there for her, and then when that doesn't work, I let her know by saying it outright. She doesn't want my help, and I'm afraid that if I keep pushing her, I'm going to do more damage than good. And at the same time, I don't know how much I believe her about anything anymore. Was she really abused by her mom? Did she really have (and then lose) such a huge amount of money? Has her sister has as many drug problems as she's said? Did she draw any of the pictures she's posted on Facebook? I don't trust her at all. I love her and I'm scared for her and I will do anything I can to help her. But I don't trust her.

And reeling it back into me again...I wish I had someone to talk to about all of this. I could use some advice, some support, some love. And there's not a single person I can ask. Someday I hope there is. Actually, someday I hope I don't have to ask.

Poster:	neversent
Date:	2012-01-25 23:14
Subject:
Security:	Public

The thing is, I think maybe you were right when you asked if we were okay. We, as we are, are fine. We, who we are when we write together are not. I would never say this to you, because I know it would hurt your feelings, but I am coming to really dread writing with you. We're both really strong personalities - I'm not debating that point. But. All of the characters you write also have that same personality. Which would be fine, except for the fact that you seem to want to change every character I write. It feels like you want to play puppet master for both me and the fictional people I create. It feels like you want to control when I write, how I write, what my characters say, how they say it, with whom they say it, who I write with...and it feels like I'm never good enough. I wonder if you realize how it feels when you constantly ask me if I've emailed this person or set up a thread with that person. If I've figured out this plot point yet or why I did something a particular way. If I do something on my own, you get really passive aggressive with me or quiet or you want to know if I did it because I'm mad at you. You want to control who writes in the game and how they write, because if they don't write how and when you want, then they can't be a part of things. You made a comment tonight about one of my characters that not only rubbed me the wrong way, but it also really hurt my feelings. You're used to people doing what you want all the time, and you're used to your characters always being in charge. Things didn't go that way this time, and you decided to end the thread and say it was because my character was a mama's boy. I'm sure that in your head it sounded like a joke. At least that's what I want to believe. What it sounded like was a really immature way to say that things didn't go the way you wanted them to and it's entirely my fault for the way I write. I have to say that I disagree. I think the way I write is more honest, and if I'd been as honest as the character wanted to be, he probably would have said that the little girl wasn't worth the trouble. I was making the effort because the last pair we tried to get together imploded, and no matter how badly you want them to get back together, I have to tell you that it's never going to happen. I'm not going to compromise who I've created just to make you happy. I'm not. And I'm sorry that you don't like that, but it becomes a chore to try to cater to you every time we try to write together. Not too long ago, you got really angry with me when I wanted to watch a movie with my dad instead of write. I think that was a turning point for me, to be honest. I started to look at the way you talked to me differently and I started to not want to write with you as much. So I'll admit, sometimes I stay away to avoid you. It's weak, but it's the easiest way to keep from getting frustrated with you. And I'm scared about what's going to happen to our friendship if I don't take a step back sometimes. I love you, but right now I don't like you very much.

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2012-01-21 22:36
Subject:	And each time I tell myself that I think I've had enough...
Security:	Public

Take another little piece of my heart now, baby.
Break another little bit of my heart now, darling.
You know you've got it
if it makes you feel good.

I thought it impossible.

You keep proving me wrong.

Someday I'm going to be strong enough.

Someday I'm going to stop looking to you for answers.

Someday I'm going to love you a little bit less and myself a little bit more.

You're making someday come more quickly.

It's just not quickly enough.

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2012-01-20 22:50
Subject:	Purgatory.
Security:	Public

I was watching a documentary tonight, and one of the people being interviewed said something that struck me.

(paraphrased)

Love isn't all hearts and flowers. Real love hurts. It can be the worst thing in the world when it sinks its claws into you and holds on, refusing to let go, no matter how hard you try to pull them out. She was the last thing I wanted or needed, but she wouldn't leave me alone. And I'm so grateful for that.

For some reason, it made me think of you.

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2012-01-16 19:55
Subject:	Heart & Shoulder
Security:	Public

( Heart )

I'm not sure this is as fitting as I thought it was at first. The lyrics in my head were, "I give you my heart, you give me your shoulder." Which might not be entirely fair either. But sometimes it kind of feels like you give me these tests, to see if I'll be there for you. And when I am, you disappear again. Maybe I'm being moody tonight, but I'm feeling lonely and I want to talk to you and you're not around.

The other day I was having a conversation in my head, which I do sometimes, and in my head, you asked me if I could ever see us having a relationship. And in my head I answered by saying that I was already half in love with you. Which was kind of a non-answer. That's how I meant it though, because while I love so many things about you, I don't know if we could ever have a real relationship. Not just because we don't know if there would be any chemistry in person, but because you have this enormous power to hurt me. Which I guess is part of a real relationship, but I'm just not sure I could do it. Which isn't to say that I don't think you're worth it, because I do. More than you'll ever know. But.

Poster:	neversent
Date:	2012-01-05 23:45
Subject:	If you could go back and rewrite history, would you?
Security:	Public

Regret. Such a short word for something so huge. I was thinking tonight about love. More specifically, about loving you. About how things started, how they ended. About what I could have done differently, about what you could have done differently. I wonder if you have any of it. Regret, I mean. In thinking, I decided that I wouldn't go back and change anything, not even the worst parts of it. It was honest, even when it sucked. So anyway, I was thinking. For the last 5 years, I've blamed myself 100% for what happened. Everything was my fault; I was wrong, I was at fault, I wasn't worth you. I think that's why I've always held out hope; if I could somehow fix whatever I did, then maybe you would love me again. Except I'm not sure you ever loved me. And I'm not sure it was 100% my fault. I can take a good 75% of the responsibility, because I fucked up. And I was fucked up. But the truth is, you were backing off before either of those things happened. Maybe you were bored, maybe you were scared - I don't know, and probably never will. But you were backing off. And maybe my response to that could have been better, but when I started to slip into depression, you never asked if I was okay. You never asked if there was anything you could do, anything I wanted to talk about. You disappeared. And I slid even further. You were never responsible for my depression; I don't want it to sound like I believe that, because I don't. But you weren't there for me when I expected you to be. And regardless of where we are now, that fact will never change. And even though I still love you - and would still jump at the chance to see where we could go - I think a part of me would always fear the same response if I ever went through another depression. It makes me sad to think like that, and more than anything else, I think that makes me accept the fact that it's never going to happen. I mean, I think I knew that already, but there's a new level of acceptance now. I think that's also what's motivating me to move on. I'm saying goodbye to a lot of things this year, and while I will always love you, I'm starting with you. And the possibility of us.

Poster:	neversent
Date:	2011-12-27 22:36
Subject:
Security:	Public

It's a little early, but my new year's resolution is to stop missing you.

It's a good thing I still have four days to go.

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2011-12-21 00:25
Subject:
Security:	Public

What was it that Voldemort said? "I confess myself disappointed." I confess myself disappointed. In you. I wish I didn't, because I'm not entirely sure that it's fair. Except, dammit, I expected more from you. I expected acknowledgement. I expected a kind word, a platitude, even. Something. People I don't even consider friends have done more than you have, and even though I would probably never talk to any of them the way I've talked to you, it meant the world that they care enough about me to say something. I understand that death makes some people uncomfortable ~ hey, I totally get it ~ but I confess myself disappointed.

I'm not sure what to do with the disappointment. I haven't said anything and I most likely won't, but it's put a wedge there. A flexible wedge, but a wedge nonetheless. We go through phases, you and I. Times where we're close and times where we're less close, and while I prefer the close times, I understand the ebb and flow. And mostly I'm okay with that. But man, right now I'm just...I don't know where we are. I don't know what to expect from you anymore, and more so, I don't know what I can expect. Is it fair that I wish you had been there more? Even though I know you have your own life and your own stresses, is it fair that I was hurt that you didn't seem to care? I don't know. My emotions are so all over the place right now that I don't know if I'm being completely unreasonable or not. I guess the bottom line is that I wanted you to care about me the way I care about you and that didn't happen. It doesn't mean you don't care at all, and maybe if I can find a way to readjust the way I feel then I won't feel bad when you don't feel the same way. It's not fair for me to put expectations on friendship; I get that much. But, fuck. I never thought they'd be so...un-met. I really didn't.

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2011-12-14 21:24
Subject:	I kissed a girl and I liked it.
Security:	Public
Mood:	contemplative

I've told you before that I love you. I've told you before that one of the reasons I love you is because you made me examine the way I look at myself. Love isn't conditional, and I don't have a clear reason why you were the person I chose to love. But I did choose you, and it's something that has impacted my life in so many more ways than I could ever express.

When we first started talking, I had never really thought about my sexuality. While I wouldn't say that I had a ton of experience with dating, I had some, and it was exclusively with men. Guys, really, but it all boils down to the same thing. I dated people with penises. It never occurred to me to look elsewhere. The idea of dating a woman, of being attracted to and loving a woman didn't disgust me; I just didn't think about it. When we started talking, that all changed. Pretty much instantly I was...besotted with you. I thought you were brilliant and funny and talented and after I saw a picture of you, beautiful. I think I recognized that I had a crush on you pretty quickly. The excitement to talk to you was there, the butterflies in my stomach were there, the permanent smile was there. Still, it was just a crush. And a mostly platonic one at that. I didn't think about kissing you or fucking you or anything other than being around you. I wanted to be around you. God help me, I still do.

Even after our...whatever it was changed (and to be fair, I'm not sure it was ever what I think it was, or if it was just something I snowballed into what I wanted it to be at a time when I needed it(although I feel like that sounds like a shot at you, which I don't intend it to be)), I found myself looking at women differently. Would I date her? Do I think she's pretty because I want to kiss her, or do I just really like her shoes? Things like that. Things I hadn't ever thought about before. That's you. I looked at you that way (and I never even saw your shoes!) and I started looking at other women that way.

That was five years ago.

Now, when I think about being with someone, finding a partner, a mate, I think it could be either a man or a woman. I don't think it will be you, even though I believe a part of me will always love you and wonder what might have been. The idea of falling in love with (another) woman is still a little scary for me. I'd like to believe that I'm strong enough to handle whatever would happen if I told my family/friends/coworkers that I was in love with another woman. I'd like to believe I'd have their support if it happened. The truth is, I don't know what would happen. I don't think it would come as a huge surprise to a lot of people, but then again, it might. It's the masochist in me, I think, that would like to find out.

Which veers away from what I wanted to say here. I wanted to say thank you. For opening my eyes to possibilities I'm not sure I ever would have considered. For breaking my heart ~ because hearts ought to be broken like that at least once in their lifetime. For being who you were then and who you are now, and showing me that it's not all books and movies. That kind of love does exist in real life. I should know; I've felt it.

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2011-12-12 21:09
Subject:
Security:	Public

I've said before that certain songs remind me of you. Tonight, you remind me of a certain song. Or rather, I in relation to you remind me of a certain song. Jaded. Against my will, I love you. But it makes me feel jaded.

Someday I'm going to be strong enough.

Poster:	neversent
Date:	2011-12-05 19:12
Subject:	BFF?
Security:	Public

Why do I always feel like I'm disappointing you? It's not a very good kind of friendship when one person is always feeling letdown and the other is always feeling like shit. I know you think it's because I'm not interested anymore, but the truth is that I am physically and mentally exhausted. You say you understand, but then you say things that make me feel so bad. And you don't seem to even want to talk to me anymore as soon as I ask if we can pick things up in a day or so, which makes me wonder if that's the only thing we have in common. And that makes me feel badly, too. I don't know what to do. I know what you want me to do, but I can't do it right now. Can't you just...be my friend? Accept the fact that this time of year is insanely busy and stressful for me, and it lasts for a month and then I'll be back to normal? Can't you just understand that? I want to be able to come home and talk to you for a little while, to check in and see how your day was, to see what's going on in your life, and just sit and relax for a bit. And I don't understand what's so horrible about that. I would just really love to have a friend that understood that.

Poster:	neversent
Date:	2011-12-05 10:56
Subject:	Things Wot I'd Say if I Had the Right to Say Them.
Security:	Public

I think about you. I try not to, because it always makes me a little sad, but I do. I think about whether or not you're happy, whether or not you've realized yet how amazing you are. I think about conversations we used to have and I think about how you said you're always the one who takes on all the burdens of everyone else, and how you wished that once in awhile someone would be there for you in the same capacity. I tried to be, I just don't think I was very good at it. I feel like I failed you, and that's what I think about most when I think about you. I read a line in a book the other day that said, "I think about you like that. I try not to, but I do." I try not to think about you that way, but I still do. There's regret and a sense of having missed some huge opportunity that I didn't even know was there, and now sorrow because I know I'll never have that opportunity again. We'll never have that opportunity again. I think about the years that have passed, and I wonder what might have happened if I hadn't failed. Would we be together now, as friends like we are now, but more, or maybe something more with the friendship added in? Would we have made a history together, created stories that would be more than memories or fantasies in my mind? Or would it have been a temporary thing, long over now, and would the memories I have now be tinged with bitterness. I don't know, just like I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop having these non-conversations with you. I tell myself that it's not like I'm rewriting history , or even that I'm trying to, really, but there has to be a reason that I keep talking to you like this. It's not closure; if that's all it was, then I think I would have found it by now. Although I guess I've found it in some sense. I've stopped believing that things will ever change between us. I wouldn't want them to go back to how they were, because as stupidly happy as I was for part of it, I was also insanely unsure of myself most of the time. For the most part, I'm okay with how things are now. I miss you, and I wish we talked more than we do, but I still get happy when I hear from you. And I like knowing that you think about me sometimes. I like thinking that there are certain things or certain times that make you think of me more. There are dozens of things that make me think of you. That's one of those other things I'd tell you if I could. Certain songs or certain smells or certain times of day. I'll be doing my thing and then all of a sudden you'll be right there, taking up a louder part of my brain or my heart than usual. Most of the time it makes me smile.

Poster:	nonebutgrace
Date:	2011-11-29 19:29
Subject:
Security:	Public

I read the other day that love is meant to be a gift. It's not meant to make people uncomfortable or sad or embarrassed or anything that's not happy. I love you. I am amazed by your talent and your heart and the person I've watched you become over the last five or 6 years. I don't know if that means I want to have a relationship with you; I honestly don't. Sometimes I think I want it more than anything. And sometimes I think that it would never work, because as much as I love you, we're two very different people, and we have different values and lifestyles. That doesn't mean I don't love you. I do, and as sad as the truth sounds, I'm grateful to be a part of your life, even if it's just on the periphery. I hear from you and it makes me smile. Even when it's ripping my heart in half, it makes me smile. I can honestly say that the thing I want most in the world for you is for you to be happy. However you get there, I want you to be happy. That should be a gift, right? I haven't ever told you how I feel because I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to think about how you're supposed to respond without hurting me, or how you're supposed to be diplomatic when you tell me that you don't love me. Loving you is one of the most unselfish things I've ever done. I don't do it for the expectation of reciprocation; I know that's never going to happen. I do it because you deserve it. You deserve so much.

Poster:	neversent
Date:	2011-11-28 12:50
Subject:
Security:	Public

So, I had this fantasy. It was a stupid one, and I knew that when I was having it, but that didn't seem to stop it from happening. It was a combination of things, I think, beginning with the holidays and the post and the music. Somehow, the music is always to blame, because once I get a song in my head, it inevitably leads me back to you. In this ill-fated fantasy, we were talking again, the way we used to talk. There was none of this surfacey bullshit that doesn't really matter, and no censoring of thoughts or words. It was simple really, just a conversation, but it brought me back to a time when I was happy. And it made me happy again.

It didn't happen; of course it didn't. That's why fantasies are fantasies. I tell myself that I know you don't think about me the same way I think about you. I don't hold the same place in your heart that I used to, and it's not your fault that I can't fill up the place you left in mine with someone else. The thing is, I still feel like I know you. I don't know if I do, but I still feel I do. And so when I know you're hurting, I can't help but want to be there. Even if you don't want me. I don't even think it's a conscious thing: you not wanting me to be there. I just think you don't think about it, because that's where we are. It still sucks. I can remember conversations where you told me that you never really depended on anyone else, and how you dealt with everything yourself because you didn't want to be a burden to anyone. I related to that, mostly because I do the same thing. But for awhile, I believe we were there for each other. I miss that. I miss you.

But I wish I didn't.