Dear F, (9)

I didn’t expect to find myself writing you another letter. I thought I was coping just fine and felt no loyalty to your nor much love towards you. However, like most things when it comes to you, I was wrong.

I got a text from you just over a week ago after The Wolf Alice gig. I wasn’t expecting that. It threw me off. It has caused me to derail a bit. You saw me there. Yes, I saw you too, but I didn’t feel the need to tell you. I saw you with your friend. But I didn’t look long enough to clock what you were doing. How you were. I didn’t want to. I was there with someone and I was excited and Happy to be with them. But you felt the need to tell me that you saw me. That you were pleased I looked happy. That I was also a deadringer for the lead singer in the band we had both seen that night. Why? Why did you have to do that?

Continue reading “Dear F, (9)”

Dear F,

Well here I am writing you another letter. I suppose I find it easier to express myself to tell you just what is on my mind and the hypothetical worries that I have.

This weekend was my first weekend without in a while. I didn’t expect to find it as hard as I have. It didn’t help that this week I haven’t exactly been in a great place mentally. But spending the whole weekend without seeing you or touching you was hard. There were so many times that I found myself yearning for you and a ‘your’ hugs. Your comfort. Your security. I dreaded a whole weekend in with my parents. It was as I expected. Them bickering most of the weekend over menial stuff and many awkward silences. It was nothing compared to the easiness and comfort of our weekends together at yours with your family. I missed them.

All weekend I have had so many thoughts running through my head. I have been really struggling with them. And I have had no one to turn to for confirmation that everything was okay and will continue to be okay. So I thought I would get them all down in a letter. I chose to write it to you because you’re the one who I want to understand what it is that I feel and fear. What keeps me up. What makes me sad. What hurts me. What makes me behave the way I do at times. Continue reading “Dear F,”

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