Broken Hearts

We were so close, we were such good friends. I looked forward to your name appearing on my phone screen and always smiled when I read your messages or opened your snaps. We always laughed together. I have more inside jokes with you from our three-month friendship than I do with friends I've had for three years. It has been a month since we've talked. I guess I knew you were interested in me. I pretended that you weren't though, just like I always do. When friends would ask I would immediately reply "Oh god no! We're just friends." They knew better, and if I'm being honest with myself, so did I. And then I messed up. Like I always do. But this time I haven't stopped thinking about it since. I guess I knew he was interested in me too. But, of course, I pretended he wasn't. And...
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An open letter to the one who gave up his chance. It's pretty much been living hell without you, it's just killing me. I know you've moved on, and you're probably really happy. But, look at me. Do you think I'm happy? I sit here, most of my time, thinking about how great things were. How much I loved you, how much you said you loved me. We were amazing. I remember this one time, I had just gotten out of the hospital, and it was our friend's birthday. She wanted to go out, but instead you stayed home with me and took care of me. You were there for me 100%, until the day you changed your mind. The day you stopped loving me. The day you stopped caring. I remember everything you've ever said to me. You told me you just weren't wanting a relationship for awhile... After a few days, I saw...
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I remember being in my college dorm, awoken by the sound of my ringing cell phone at 2AM. It had been weeks now: the same phone call from the same person, and the same conversation every night. A dear friend of mine wasn’t just suffering from depression, he was completely consumed by it. During those phone calls, he wasn’t the friend who rode shotgun with me in the summer and laughed at my jokes. He was someone I didn’t recognize. That’s what depression does to someone, especially in the late hours of the night when serotonin levels aren’t balanced and their mind is racing with worries. It all seemed to come out at 2AM, and I listened to every word. One of the hardest things about watching a friend suffer was the dark place he took me to as he reached for my hand. He told me...
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(Full disclosure: I use the term ‘ex’ here loosely, referring to any guy a girl has spent any time liking, hooking up with, going on dates with, etc. I know some try to justify their actions by saying things like, “Well, technically they didn’t officially date.” Doesn’t matter. You don’t need to have an exclusive, labeled-relationship to have feelings. ) Dear Girl Dating Her Friend’s Ex, I know that, like every woman, sometimes you worry you’re going to be single the rest of your life. We all have those feelings, even when we know it’s irrational. I also know sometimes you just can’t help who you like. However, I am here to tell you that these “feelings” are not an excuse to be a shitty person or friend. You may not be able to help who you like, but you can help how you choose to...
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what I have for you is not love, you said. but your name still echoes in my head, your face never seems to fade, memories of us still linger in me, the thought of your smile still gives me butterflies, and remembering the way you used to look at me makes my heart ache. so if this is not love then tell me why, why the fuck am I like this? I catch myself thinking about you a pretty significant amount throughout the day, and that makes things a hell of a lot worse because I’m almost certain you don’t think of me. during the day it isn’t half as bad as it gets at night though. right now it’s eleven and i’m only on the second paragraph but the tears are already flowing. I never would’ve thought that I’d start my freshman year at SHSU and end up falling in love, especially not with someone...
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I'm sick of running away with my feelings. I'm not hiding it, or maybe I am, but I don't know how to let it out. How to let the person know what I'm feeling about them because I'm not sure if it's true. I don't know how to act on this feelings I don't know if exists. It doesn't matter how it started because you won't believe it anyway, but I'm just clinging on this intuition.. it hasn't failed me, or if it did, well, nobody get harmed. But I do know the whole act was true. I felt it. This whole time, for the past few years, yeah, it was that long, I felt it. I just don't know how to prove it, unless they tell me which I don't think will ever happen. And these regrets will forever be regrets unless one of us will have the courage to finally speak out and let it all out. I will let it...
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Ok, so this story starts two years ago from now. I fell in love with the most perfect person, The love of my life and even now when its done and over looking back I cant say we were ever unhappy or that I would of ever in a million years would of seen this coming. We had the perfect love story but sadly tragedy felt like it was right around the corner for us as I was due to be leaving for university and after many talks and tears we were not willing to give each other up. Our love for each other was so strong that nothing could change that. We planned to be apart for that one year as he was due to go to university the following year which I had even found a course in the neighbouring city which he thought was perfect for him and despite whatever odds we did it. We talked everyday,...
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It's okay, I promise. I love a drug addict, and there is nothing I can do about it. The mental abuse, the tearing down, the heartbreak, and the love that you don't want to destroy... I get it. I was in a relationship with him for 4 years. On and off, he was doing Heroin... the big bad drug. He was destroying himself. And it was destroying me. I love him. I loved him. I don't know him. I love him when he is sober. I love him when he is high. I don't know the difference anymore. A relapse here, a relapse there... Every relapse was found with the mental abuse. He tore me open, prodded at every wound. I can't leave him like this... I can't stay with him like this... He's killing himself... He's killing me... I have always cared about people more than I cared...
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Dear Dad, Unlike most letters, this one lacks a destination. It seems to have gotten lost somewhere in between the tall bud light in your left hand and the bottle of grey goose in your right. So I’ll write it in hopes that one day I do find out where I should send it. I hope you’re not as bothered by all of this as I am. I wouldn’t wish an ache like this on my worst enemy. If I’m in a quiet space and close my eyes tight enough, I can almost remember the overjoyed, filled with eagerness attitude I had upon your arrival. Saturdays were my favorite day of the week. I suppose that Saturday is a lot of people’s favorite day of the week but I have a unique reason for it. Saturday is the one day of the week I get to dedicate to having fun with my best friend, Dad. It was always “we can...
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An open letter to the women, who didn't even give me the chance. I hope your well, truly, I hold no hate, or anger against you, people tell me it's "their loss"... But is it really? You had nothing to lose, nor did I... But it feels like a loss. Maybe I'm just a sappy pathetic, hopeless romantic.... Why even try anymore? Why put myself through my hope being crushed, for when I know what awaits me.... Nothing, loneliness. One of the truest, yet falsely things said in today's' world is, "you can't love another without loving yourself".. "You don't need to be in a relationship to be happy" while all that is true, it's also false... What are you to do when you miss the companionship of a female? I miss the passion, I miss the trips, the sight seeing, the special moments, I miss the...
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