Category: Letters to Stranger

Dear Stranger

As I walked down memory lane this afternoon, my chest constricted, and tears flowed freely. It was as if my mind was breaking up with you. I went over everything that happened in these last five years. Some things came back to me; almost forgotten words hit me with such force that I forgot to breathe.

I cannot go on anymore. Not like this. Not when whatever we have is entirely and exclusively orchestrated by you. I don’t have a say in this. And it fucking kills me. How can someone so emotional in his art be so cold toward other people in reality? Don’t you care at all about other people? Do you flee into this fantasy world where I worship you and snap out of it as soon as you caught your breath and cleaned the cum from your stomach?

A while ago, I thought that there was a shift in our relation, but as so often, the shift was followed by rejection and silence. We were real intimate. At least for a moment. And I thought that maybe, just maybe, there was something like a friendship between us. But I am just a stranger, and when things get real or when you feel too seen, too understood, you cut me off. What is it about you? Why can’t I let go? Why can’t I just say “fuck it” and ignore you the way you ignore me? Why? What is this about? I don’t want to save or change you. I will not nag. I will just slowly retreat, because that is what I do.

There is a big hole in my soul, and some days you just kiss it, and all is good. Other days, your silence makes the hole grow until it almost devours me. And still, I hold your secrets safe.

I cannot stop crying, mourning. I cannot do this anymore, Stranger. I just can’t. Sometimes, it feels as if I can feel you in me. And I see you standing there, afraid and filled with fear. And yet… I am here. I don’t know how many women left you during our five years (or how many you ghosted), but I am still here. And that, dear Stranger, counts for something too. Maybe it just shows how stupid and blind I am when it comes to you.

I remember my promises to you. I will keep them until the day my last tear falls, and my last breath leaves my body.

If I could just stop myself from feeling anything. If I could be numb. But I am not.

This is fucking insane. But I miss you.

Sweetie

Dear Stranger

I want to be special. I want to be the one for you. But after all these years of pushing and pulling, of beautiful words and ugly silence, I am beginning to understand that I will never be anything more than a secret.

Dear Stranger

If I could, I would sell my life to have a future with you. I would move you into my world and keep you there. I would keep you safe in my arms.

Forever yours,

Sweetie

Dear Stranger

Thank you, dear Stranger. You cared. And while it keeps ringing in my mind that you once said that you don’t care and none of it matters, you were there when I needed you. You eased my fears with your usual calm. Just a few words, the right words, was all it took for me to breathe easy. I am truly under your spell, am I not?

Everything matters with us. We both know it. The small things, those that other people don’t even register, are the things that ignite the thing we have.

Everything. Everything counts.

Sweetie

Flash #12

Dear Stranger

It has been a while. Lots happened, and yet, nothing changed. A lot has changed. The way we are together has changed. As if there is a friendship building. Slowly. And apart from the dirty fantasies and sex calls. It feels comforting. There are no expectations and no pressure. Just there. A while ago, this would not have been possible. A normal, real conversation would have been unthinkable. But it is not anymore. And I am grateful for that. I am not in love; you aren’t either. But there is connection and affection tinting our brief chats. For years, I wanted you to see me. And now, now you do. It took a pandemic to make you see me. It shouldn’t be like this, but it matters. It is important for me that you see me, and I feel serene when you are near.

Forever yours,

Sweetie

Dear Stranger

Already? Yes, there is a new short letter waiting for you. I don’t know who to tell that I am worried about you. I am worried about your health – physical and mental, and I am concerned that the recent happenings in the world are not helping you at all. I know you are alone in your apartment, probably half happy to be on your own and half needing someone to be there.

As so often, I tried to be there, but our schedules clashed. When you called at 5:30 this morning (my time), I was still asleep. I know, last time we spoke at that time – but I am not working right now; I sleep.

It was a weird coincidence that you called though – okay, yes, there was a message I’d sent yesterday and yet. Why weird? Well, I did not sleep well. I had vivid dreams of you.

In my dream, you simply appeared on my doorstep with two bags, a guitar, and a smile, declaring that you were here to live with my family and me. And you did. You just fit in. And when we had alone time, we’d kiss and fuck. It was not making love in my dream – it was fucking. The way we both like it. And there was that green hue in my dream, the one that always makes me feel as if you are there with me, ever since the very first time we spoke on the phone in 2015.

And a particular image stayed in my mind. You were pushing me against the nearest wall to kiss me… It’s a longing deep inside me, I know. I am yearning to be touched and to be kissed sensually.

I guess what the dream means is that I want to take care of you in my own unique way, while I know that I am only needed for you to feel less alone or to have your kinks tickled.

I know all that, and still, I miss you,

Sweetie

Dear Stranger

Happy New Year

Another new year for us isn’t it. Oh, and how this one started. You and me on the phone. I did not even think too long before sending my message to wish you a happy new year. And I did not expect to have an immediate response. And wow… It was an amazing start to the new year. And I just kept on floating on that feeling all day long. Parts of me hopes that it will set the tone for 2021, and part of me hopes that we can finally meet. I want to bury my nose against your neck and breathe you in until you become a part of me. I love you, stranger. With all my heart. Every day you are on my mind. And every time I write, you become a part of it.

Happy New Year, Stranger.

Forever yours,

Sweetie

About these letters to stranger

The first letter to stranger was written in 2015. But it was a one-off. In 2017 I took the idea up again, and since then, I regularly send a virtual and fictitious letter to stranger. I know exactly who Stranger is and I know who Sweetie is. But it is my creative choice to keep everyone in the dark. I don’t want to give more backstory than the one that can be found in the letters. At one point, I wanted Stranger to reply, but I decided against it. It is an unreciprocated love affair, about co-dependency too. From Sweetie’s words, you will probably assume that Stranger is a narcissist, and she is an empathetic people pleaser. Both of these characters are filled with qualities and flaws. And for people who know me or my words a bit, they will recognise some of me in Sweetie, mostly in the last letter I shared. (the shoulder pain, the Myers-Briggs test…)

I decided to give the letters more visibility with an own category and menu. If you click the menu, every letter will be displayed, in reverse chronological order – the last letter first.

Here’s a link for you: https://micqu.wordpress.com/category/letters-to-stranger/

I invite you to revisit these very short letters, I would love to have some feedback.

Dear Stranger

I cannot sleep, again.

We try avoiding topics like this, but it is because of my shoulder pain. I can not seem to find a comfortable position to sleep or rest, and in the evening, I am beginning to be a bit anxious about it. I keep watching reruns of ER, just to stay up and awake. Pathetic, right? But you know how I am.

Late at night, I often think about you. And I feel the need in my fingers to text you, 98% of the time, I resist. I know the rule – it’s you who gets in touch, not me. Because if I do, you tend to ignore me. I am passive-aggressive; I apologise. I am lonely but never alone. And I feel disconnected while I am connected to the world.

Do you remember May? We were so close back then. Both locked up in different countries but very close. “Marriage Material” that one is still a ghost in my mind. It felt as if you saw me for the first time because you described me quite well. That was before you vanished again until November. “Who cares?” Another one of those ghosts.

I took an official Myers-Briggs test. I am an INFP. Apparently they are quite rare. The description of me is spot on though. Creepy. But read for yourself:

https://www.16personalities.com/infp-personality

Do you recognise me too?

I was thinking about Christmas and what I would get you if we exchanged gifts. I still have the same idea I had years ago, when our first Christmas happened. None of us got in touch, I think, but I can not be sure. I can not tell you about your present though, I don’t want to spoil it.

I am worried about you. About your asthma and if you keep taking your medication as advised. It is not my place to worry, but I am doing it anyway.

Most people come and go. And when they go, they rarely come back. You always come back. There is a bond, invisible, but there. It is what makes me write these letters. It is what makes you wonder if you feel too much.

When we are together, I love you. When you visit in my dreams, I love you.

I miss you tonight…

Yours, Sweetie

Dear Stranger

Dear Stranger,

Readers are rolling their eyes and thinking, “again? When will it stop?!”
Probably never. Because you are the one who said that I was the only one to fill the holes in your mind, in your heart, and in your body. You are the one who cried when I said that I would always be there for you and when you admitted you felt abject loneliness without me. You are the one who said that I am marriage material, that I deserve better in my life. You are the one who said in no uncertain terms that you would never forget me. (as long as there is cum in my balls…) You stranger, are the one who asked why it was so hard to forget me. You are the one who says you love me, even though you insisted that you could never love anyone. You are who I need for two moments of serenity and happiness in my life. But you are also the one who planted the seed in me that nothing matters, all is a fantasy, and that you don’t and never care-d about me. And you are the one who ignored me for weeks before and after we were supposed to meet. You are the one ghosting me for months and then popping up in my emails, reminding me of a contract I once wrote for us. And me?
I am the one who takes whatever you have to offer. I am the one who understands your situation. I am the one who knows which buttons to push and who allows you to push my buttons. I am the one who longs for your voice on the phone and who also hates our calls. In the end, dear stranger, I am the only one who always stayed by your side. And you know that I know your good, bad, and your ugly sides. I have experienced you at your lowest and when you were down… and I got glimpses of your happiness too. I am there when you are all alone and stressed, and when the tough times are too much for you. I am always there… and I think that it would be better to be less available. It would be better for you, and certainly better for myself too – although we both know that it is easier to cope with it now than it was years ago. Could you imagine?! I am still and always your most perfect girl… 11 years younger, but exactly who you need for your mind and body.

Sleep tight,
Your Sweetie