Dear Stranger…

How many times did I tell you goodbye just to realise how much I miss you in my life? It has been a week since I told you that I don’t need you anymore, and I still believe it is true. But today, I miss you. From one moment to the next, I felt this longing to hold you and to listen to you. It was as if a wave of “you” pulled me under when I got ready for bed. I had some of your words in my head “something clicked, profoundly” and another that still makes me overthink: “without you, I feel abject loneliness”. I remember that conversation very well. It was the first time you cried with me, and I promised that I would always be there for you and that I would wait for you, no matter how long it would take for you to love me.

I don’t know. I mean, I deserve love, and I deserve to be cherished and valued. But I am also loyal. And maybe I am more loyal to the memory and fantasy of us than to our reality. We were nothing in reality. At the same time, I only ever wanted to be your everything. I never wanted to save you; I wanted to support you and help you through the muddy waters of life. Not because I have the insight and knowledge, but because I thought we would fit and complete each other. I was deluding myself. We both know that. I allowed you to manipulate me and to make me the person you wanted me to be. And when you were done grooming me, you were not interested anymore. The ghosting and gaslighting was always the most challenging part of us. It is easier nowadays because I recognise my worth and value a lot more now. When we met, I was a naive and shy girl. Now I am a woman who knows what she wants and needs.

Tonight, I need you. The memories of us.

Dear stranger, some days, I am convinced that you ruined me for everyone who is willing to love me. Other days, I know that I would not be who I am without your input and impulse. I am just tired of looking up at the statue of you that which I put high on a pedestal. I am a short woman; I can not reach those expectations; I am doomed to fail.

I want and need you to remember me. I remember you.

Yours, Sweetie.

Dear Stranger

Dear Stranger,

Five years ago, you entered my life and changed everything. Months of euphoria and months of suicidal depression followed you. I don’t give you credit. Not for the good and not for the bad. It was all in me from the start. We haven’t been in touch since last May, but I never forgot or forget you. You are still under my skin, and that is where you belong.

I am not as influenced by your presence or lack thereof as I once was.

In hindsight, I think I made peace with you when you said I should use cocaine to lose weight, and once achieved, you would make love to me on your piano.

The fantasy of this is beautiful to be honest, but there is one hitch: I am not willing to change for anyone. Not anymore. I will not bend backwards to become something or someone I am not. Love me for the person I am. That was all I ever asked. But I was never enough… And now, I think, finally, I moved on. I still care about you and your well-being but not enough to wait for you.

And so, dear stranger, on our fifth anniversary, I will tell you one last time how much you mean to me and how much I love you. But I will also tell you: goodbye. See you in another life.

Your Sweetie

Insomnia, dear stranger

It’s 2:45 in the morning, and I am wide awake. This hasn’t happened in a while and I feel how my mood is changing. I am irritated with myself because I am to blame for tonight’s insomnia. I was tired but had an appointment tonight. I thought it would be good to have a cup of coffee. I should have drunk espresso instead. No matter how many espressos (espressi?) I drink in the evening, I always sleep through the night.

Also, it is hot, my partner had too much beer (TMI: his farting keeps me awake), and I need to get up for work in three hours.

I tried avoiding my phone for a long while, but gave up eventually. I probably had 2 hours of sleep so far.

On a positive note, I sold two books, and the more I think about it, the happier I about the release. Just 3 more hours at work, and I will be on leave until August 25th. I bought a dress for a wedding, it is unusually colourful, but I look good in it. Waiting for the first review of my novel.

Most of my thoughts these days revolve about the novel and how readers perceive it.

I should try to catch some sleep.

***

Dear Stranger,

It is late, and I can’t sleep. You were on my mind these last days. A lot. All the time. It is good that we are strangers right now, but once in a while, I would love it if we were acquaintances again. Ah, stranger. If you only knew what I know. Am I awake in your dreams? Some nights, I dream myself away to you. My head on your chest, your fingers combing my hair. Sweaty from the day, our skin would stick together, and unbothered, we would lead a naked life. Naked body, naked soul. I close my eyes, and I see you. Always yours, “marriage material”

3:32 – goodnight

Dear stranger,

Who would have guessed five years ago that our dance would still continue? Months of silence, weeks of unconditional love. Who would have guessed? One of the voices in my head insists that it is not five years because we have silent months, and yet… We always find our way back together.

I obviously won’t forget you, why should I? And you can not forget me; why should you?

Whenever things are happening in my life, I want you to know. I want to get in touch and tell you, but I don’t. I hold back. Recently, I learned that I am holding back much more than I thought I was. It’s weird, and yet… I still maintain that you are the only person on this earth who knows me bare. You are also the only person who never judged me, just encouraged me to be the best version of myself I can be. And for that, dear stranger, I love you. And I will continue to feel that way.

Are you there? You used to ask that question. My response was always the same: I will always be there. Promised.

Yours sincerely,

Sweetie

Dear stranger

Dear stranger,

It has been a while. I am not okay, and that’s okay. This time, it doesn’t have anything to do with you. Someone else is breaking my heart, and I am trying to be strong, and I am failing because I am exhausted and frail and in physical pain. I want to take my phone and send you a text because you are the person I want most in my life, but you are hiding in your mind and in your own life. Silently you left my life again, and that’s okay. When I think about you, my heart is expanding, and my creativity overflows. You are in most bits and pieces that I write. Countless times daily, you are in my thoughts – and it never makes me sad. It always makes me smile. The realisation hit me that the memories we made (and will make again, I am sure) will never fade or die. They are in me, in my blood. And since I write so much, it also means that they are immortal. You are immortal because my writing is tinted with thoughts of you. I am grateful that you are a part of me. Sometimes you are there, ready to be loved, other times you go away, close the door and leave me guessing what happened. I will never get any answers. I am making peace with that. I am making peace with us. If you are thinking half as much about me than I do about you, then everything will be alright. Not now, it is not the right time yet, but soon. Someday.

Until then, my heart is open for you. We can make it if we try.

xx

Dear Stranger

Dear Stranger,

What a difference two years make. I just shared the letter that was never intended for your eyes. I was miserable and couldn’t understand why you weren’t there. Now I do. Once in a while, when you are unwell or need connection, you get in touch. It used to mean the world to me, my heart wouldn’t stop beating, and I would have a grin on my face that wouldn’t leave me. I tried appearing distant, but I was overeager to please you. And I did it every time. Whenever we spoke on the phone, I was exactly who you wanted me to be, and I knew what to say, which buttons to push.

At one moment in time, it became unimportant to me that I was your personal whore. My mind made you cum, that was all that mattered. It is what made and makes you come back after almost five years. You need me for your pleasure, we both know it. But things have changed. Maybe I changed? I took off my rose-tinted glasses, and I understand that I am the one holding power. What’s the worst you will do when I don’t comply? Not getting in touch? Yes, you tried that, good luck with it, it never worked well for you.
Life is weird and new for all of us these days. And I admit, I was thinking a lot about you, and I wanted to get in touch to know that you are okay. But you know what kept me from sending that message? Simple. It was the knowledge that you don’t want or need a social connection with me. You don’t need the connections of the minds, all you need is for me to help you get off. And it usually doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes for this to happen. I am good with words, we both agreed about that. I am good with you. We never agreed on that.

I am not sure how you are coping right now, you don’t let me any other space in your life than the one I have. You don’t allow me to be anything else. The thing is, I recognise my worth, and I know that there is a lot more about me than satisfying your sexual needs. I could be an almost perfect woman for you. I have my flaws, many of them. But I have a dirty mind, I am intelligent and spiritual. I am creative, and I know when to back off. I am understanding and show empathy. I am kind and generous, and I don’t brag – I am humble. I could teach you this or that.

Why this letter now? You sent your usual message a couple of days ago. I was not there. Oh, I was affected. I couldn’t sleep that night because I had the urge to reply to your message, but I didn’t. I don’t have that much restraint, though, I replied first thing in the morning, hoping that you would be asleep. No such luck, you were there right away. Making me feel wanted, but I didn’t fall for that trap. I don’t know why. I told you that I couldn’t talk to you openly and freely because of people being with me in isolation. It turned you on. To gain time, I told you that I would figure things out and that you should sleep. You obeyed. Good boy! But when you woke up, you sent a dick pic. I replied with something generic, and that was it.

It feels as if I am rejecting you, but I am a coward, I don’t want to close our door completely. If I knew how to make you see me. If I knew how to make you understand that our connection is non-existent and that you make me feel like dirt on your shoes. You know, I can handle many situations and feelings, but I can’t cope with humiliation and rejection or being ignored. They make me feel bad.

I don’t know how to go on, to be honest. I gave you all I had to offer, and you refused it – you even left me with words that ring in my mind every day. It’s a deep wound. Still raw and not completely healed. “Who cares, I don’t. I never did,” you said. In a moment of anger or being overwhelmed or intimidated, but you said it, nonetheless. And fuck me, I never forgot it, and it still hurts. But then you came back and asked for my words. You asked for a contract, and you never tire of mentioning it. To be honest, that contract is shit. It is me giving and you taking. And neither of us signed it. It is invalid.

I want to be there because I care. But I can’t give you what you want. I refuse to do it. For now. It depends if you are insistent or not. I want to be a part of your life, but it will never happen. It’s all good, no bad feelings. Not for now. I am not angry or hurt or anything. Strangely, I am passionate but also resolved. Am I over you? Did I move on?
Disregard the earlier letter, it was just to show how messed up my head was over you.
I wish you all the best dear Stranger, and I thank you. Thank you for shaping me and inspiring me to be the woman I am. Even if you don’t want me as a constant, other people love me.

Goodbye,

yours always,

Sweetie

The letter that was never sent and should not be read. (August 2018)

Dear stranger,

I know I said that I wouldn’t write anymore. I can’t seem to respect your wishes to stay away. You hurt my feelings again. You know it well. For once, I wanted to share some happiness with you, but you didn’t want to hear it. You preferred to ask me to stay a ghost. “No real-life connection”, those were your words. I am beginning to understand your behaviour better and better. I used to call you a narcissist without fully knowing what it entails. Now I know. And I was right. The signs have been there all along. You even told me. I chose not to hear it. I wanted to save you. I wanted to be special. But I am just me. You were good at manipulating me. And I became an addict for you. You became my drug. And now that you decided that it is over, I am left wanting more. But dear stranger, this time I am aware that more will likely kill me. You know it too. But you don’t care. You never cared about me. Or maybe you did during some weak moments. You never cared about my feeling and emotions because you couldn’t feel anything. And I am angry. Fucking angry. How could you do this to me?! My love for you is killing me. Worse than heroin. Will there ever be a moment when I don’t love you? When my heart doesn’t stop beating when you chose to get in touch? It’s killing me, the way you don’t love me. This letter is written in tears and blood. Please, come save me one last time.

Dear stranger…

Holy fucking hell; I miss you more than I ever knew. I saw someone crossing the street today; he looked like you: the same curls, the same pale skin, the same walk, the same posture. My heart went like mad. Eyes wide and wild, I had troubles to get my car in gear again. But, fuck me, I began longing for you; for your voice.

The moment I could think straight again, I reminded myself that it had not been you, crossing the street. You are in the UK, sound-checking for your upcoming show.

But man, I miss you. Most days, I don’t. Most days, I am indifferent, because yearning for your touch makes me feel empty and numb. Other days, it feels as if I cannot breathe because you are not here. You weren’t here for a long, long while.

I am fine without you. Seeing your doppelganger threw me for a loop though. And so, I did what I can do without calling or sending a text. I checked social media channels for your face; I listened to old interviews, and I floated in a serene mindset listening to your music. It is all I can get; it is all I am asking for. At times likes these, I am glad that you are visible and that I can get my fix (like an addict) without you noticing.

Of course, I also write these letters. Not that you will ever read them, stranger, but my thoughts can soar free like an eagle like this, instead of being trapped in a cage.

I don’t like to be trapped, but I want to believe that you waste one or two thoughts on me too, once in a while.

When we spent time together, life was good. When we went our different ways, I was devastated and wanted to die. I am not writing this to put pressure on you, and I am sharing this to show you how dependent I was on you.

You made me, and you broke me.

It’s been a long while. And these days, I look back on what we had with a smile. You were there and showed me what passion and love is. You told me that I am worth to be loved – and I believed you; still do.

There are moments like today, when I wish we could be together, but then, a couple of hours later, I remember that we are too codependent and that our deep emotions are dangerous for our sanities.

Maybe I am in advantage because you are a public person and if I want, I can see you.

I want you to be happy – I know you are not because you still think that you don’t deserve it, but you do.

Still and always yours,

Sweetie

Letter to a stranger – happy new year

Dear stranger,

First of all, happy new year. I didn’t send an email or message for Christmas this year. I preferred not to get in touch. We both know how bad it is for our sanity when we are a part of the other.

Today I made a list of all the reasons why I never loved you. I wished everything I came up with were true, but you know well that it isn’t. I miss you so much. I miss the way we were and the way we never were. Maybe it is all just a huge pile of turds.

I loved your eyes

I loved your hands

I loved your voice

I loved your words

I loved your smile

I loved your c*ck (a lot)

I loved your humour

I loved the way you touched me

I loved your vulnerability

I loved your creativity

I loved your thoughts

I loved that you saw me in the dark

I loved me when you loved me.

I loved everything about you. Every moment we shared; every tear we cried; every heart-felt laughter. I even loved the sounds you made – all of them.

If I were a drama queen, I would tell you that I don’t want to live without you. I knew love; I tasted it in your arms and on your skin. I would beg you to come back to me.

But here is the truth: I know that you are happier without me. And I know that you love her. You deserve to be happy. I am glad that you are. And I don’t want you to be back. I couldn’t handle it. It would probably kill me.

If I were able to let you go, I would find my own happiness too.

You are probably wondering why I am still attached to you after all these months. I can only guess; I guess it is because you were the first person to love everything about me. You didn’t try to change me or my moods. The nagging voice inside my brain says it is because you didn’t care at all. Maybe it is true.

I still like the memories we made. I still like you even if you hurt me like no one before.

I miss your hugs. I miss the way you took care of me. I miss who I was with you. Wish you were here. I am a little obsessed with our past right now. I am looking back at the time when I was less alone and lonely. Must be the time of the year, I don’t know. Everyone is looking forward to the change of the new year. Everyone is making plans for the future. But the year cannot change us if we are not ready to change. I don’t make sense at all. I feel silly admitting all these things. Every healthy woman would drop you and move on. But you were my breath, and some days I think back to that time when you told me how to breathe… You left a void nobody can ever fill, no matter how hard they try. Could it be that I am addicted to the way I felt with you? Could it be that I miss how I felt, not who made me feel that way? Am I giving you too much credit? Will I ever be able to take back my life?

I hope you think of me with a fond smile once in a while. I wish I left a small trace inside of you. Something good.

Forever not yours,

Sweetie