Letterhead #17

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Dear Jack,

I am so, so sorry I fell out of love with you.

If it means anything, I didn't want to fall out of love.

But I just…I felt so far away from myself.

I tried so much to make it work. And I did for a while. 

And we were happy.

I was the perfect girlfriend. But I wasn't me.

I fell out of love with you when I fell in love with myself.

And that's when I stopped wanting to try.

It's not your fault and it's not mine.

We both changed until we stopped suiting each other.

Thank-you for being the perfect first love.

I hope we can still stay friends.

With love,

Letterhead #16

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Dear Jack,
I'm lonely when I'm with you.
Not always, but often.
I try so hard not to be sad around you.
Or if I am sad, not to let it show.

I don't want to tie my sadness to you.
Tie you to my sadness.
I told you that, once.
You said something like:
I'm sorry that you're sad, but it doesn't affect my mood.
You wanted to reassure me.
It did.
But it also made me feel
so
incredibly
lonely.
Sometimes I feel so lonely it feels as though I'm trying to breathe in Carbon Dioxide. 
Because, you're my person, and even you don't understand.
It was different when I was alone.
I was better at caring for myself.
Less focussed on you.
Less soft.
It was better.
I don't know if I can get better with you.
I can't breathe.

It's getting to the point where I am no fun anymore, I am sorry. / Sometimes it hurts so badly I must cry out loud, ' I am lonely.' / I am yours, you are mine, you are what you are, you make it hard.

-David Crosby

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Letterhead #15

Dear Jack,
I'm petrified. I don't want to look at you the wrong way.
I'm scared because I can't avoid this. You can't see it coming but I can.
When you're thirty, and married, and maybe you have a child or two.
And you think back to me, the first girl that ever counted for you, the girl you thought might be the one.
And you cringe.
The aspiring actress. The sometimes drunken, always depressed mess. An incredibly self-absorbed, shallow, foolish girl.
And you wonder what happened, or maybe you'll know. And you won't be as open-minded as you are now, and you'll know what an idiot I am. For the drugs and the self-destruction.
Ugh. What a cliche.

fighter

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Dear World,
I'm trying to fight.
I want to be a fighter.
So if I fight you,
please don't think it's because I dislike you.
It's because I need to fight myself
                                        my friends
                                        my enemies
                                        my unhappiness
                                        my thoughts
                                        the universe.
It's because I need to fight anything I can to remind myself I can fight.

I'm strong enough to fight this.

Letterhead #14

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Dear Alex,
Thanks for the message.
It was sweet and lovely and made me smile.
The nicest part was you don't know I'm feeling sick and tired and sad. But you were still so nice. That message is the first good thing that's happened for me today.
Thank you.
Today might be bearable after all.

Letterhead #12

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Dear Bella,
I feel so shit today.
It's like everything you said last night has seeped into me.
I meant it when I said
"You can't depress me, I've been there already.
I've thought all these things before"
But this morning it got into me,
(maybe it's because I was reminded of how i used to think)
I will not tell you.
Because I can let go of it now,
I can already feeling it sliding away
and I don't want you to think
you are hurting me.
Even if you are a bit.

just a letter

This is a tag created by Felicity which I was tagged in by the exceptionally talented Katherine. All you have to do is write a letter beginning with 'Dear You' that can't include any names, only pronouns. It's really freeing and easy, I hardly ever write in such a straight forward manner, I think I'll do it more.
I tag : Chlo and Sabine Cara for fairly obvious reasons I feel.
I was going to tag Jokerman but my account isn't working properly and I can't comment on his blog to let him know, so if you get this Danke, I hope you do the tag.

Dear you,

I've wanted to write this letter for a long time, but I haven't. I'm not sure why. I often put off things like this. It's because when I think, I think through everything and sometimes it's too much. It's difficult being a thinker sometimes. It's a lot messier than those who just accept things.

I'm talking to him again, well today and yesterday. It's funny, it's not that we weren't talking, but we haven't talked to each other a long time. He's curious like that. Someone said to me on Wednesday, "He is always a bit angry at everyone." I think that person's right.

I haven't been writing a lot lately, not even in my journal. Honestly I suppose it's a but more of a diary but I don't really like that word as much. And I haven't been writing on my blog. Which is annoying because I really want to, and even tags I've been given I haven't been able to fill out, except this one. It's frustrating because I love to write, but it's so erratic. I have to be in the right state of mind and a lot of things mess with that for me.

My friend is doing okay (I think), if you were wondering. We all are. But I wonder where we are going to be in 6 months time, when we don't have the support and stresses we have now. It could go either way I think.

I wish I could use my real name to sign off, but I won't. What's in a name, after all? If anything because of the anonymity of the internet, I've been more myself as Lilah, or more open to the parts of me that I don't want everyone to see at least. Except for her but that's okay. She is different. A friend once said to me, "She is one of the few people that actually care", they don't even know the half of it. I don't think I do either.

With love,

Letterhead #10.5

Dear Bella
Last night
(at the mexican fiesta)
there was a moment,
when i looked at you and thought
"why is she doing this?"
and the only thing i could think was
-i know why i'm doing it.
but i didnt think you were unhappy.
what aren't you telling us?
are you okay?

Letterhead #11

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Dear Bella,
I've been listening to hurt by nine inch nails/johnny cash all night
you're right, it's incredible.

I just want to say, the times i've shown you writing and said
it was from another blog,
i lied. i don't know why, maybe you can relate.
i mean, you lie,
you lie all the time.
you say no one knows you're sad.
but you tell them, you tell me.
they just don't know what to do
when you say you want to die.
they're scared and (you're right) they don't want to believe it,
they want to believe in the bright, smiling bella,
not this hidden, broken, lonely person who we've never met
because you've never introduced us.
(can you blame them)
it's your fault.
it's their fault.
it's nobody's fault.

they do care,
we both know it, but they don't understand
they are innocent, unstained, happy fools
and you can't expect them to save you.
That is, if you even want saving.
I don't know if you do anymore,
I don't think you know either.

Letterhead #10



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Dear writer, reader, blogger,
I have a question.

When are you going to realise
That you aren't going to be saved?
By your parents
By Jesus
By faith and hope and love
By the system
By your blossoming future
By a girl
By a boy.

That you will wilt
And shrivel and wither
That you will die
Drown in your loneliness
In your despair.
That you can't rely on anyone else
Anything else.

Or, alternately
When are you going to realise that you can save yourself?

Letterhead #9

Dear Peta,
I'm sorry I'm a shitty friend.
That I don't feel like seeing you a lot of the time
and that I can behave so bipolar.
I'm sorry that I take a lot,
I'm sorry I want you to be someone you aren't.
I'm sorry that sometimes I love you but not always.
I'm sorry I don't normally like hugs.
I'm sorry that your mum died,
I tried to make it better, but I'm sorry I couldn't.
I'm sorry I don't have the courage to say this to your face.
With love,

Dear Peta,
You remember that time I said I didn't think we would stay friends for much longer?
(But you've never listened to me) I was being honest.
I still believe it.
Sorry I forced you to believe it, too.
Stay good.

Letterhead #8

Dear Jack,
Right now I fucking hate you and no i wont tell her
let me make my own mistakes
this just reassures me that i cant handle you right now
i cant handle what you want me to be

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so yes, i lied to you
i dont care though,
because im protecting myself and i might as well follow through

its okay, because this wont go anywhere

you saw part of me tonight that you didnt know i had and neither of us want you to get any closer
i am sorry i texted you
its my fault all this crap happened.

it's okay if youre pissed off at me,
i am too
fuck you xx

ps. can i just say, that im sorry you had to get to know me at this time. im not always this way

letterhead #7

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Dear Ellen,
We are so similar, so alike.
You don't realise how much, you never have.
We've experienced the same things, but our motivations are different.
They always have been.
I never wanted to be found,
to be saved,
to be fixed.
I never wanted to drag others down into the watery depths with me.
I never wanted to prove anything.
I never knew what I wanted.

letterhead#6

Dear Jack,
There are no words for you.
Not because you aren't special,
because you are.

letterhead #5

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Dear Meg,

This is my second letter to you.

You could already know what I'm about to tell you,

But somehow I don't think so.
Despite how confident I sound in my previous letter I wasn't sure it was you.
I thought maybe it was someone else,
Maybe I was making things up,
After all- a lot of people like frozen raspberries.
But tonight you cleared all doubt.
You have a blog, with 18 followers, you've been on it a year.
You signed a comment recently with your real name.
But most importantly, tonight you said you wouldn't want me reading your blog.
Wouldn't want me following your blog.

Sorry it has taken me so long to tell you.

I guess I didn't want you reading my blog,

Knowing it was me when you did.

But that only reinforces the point that I should be honest.

At first I wasn't sure what to do,
But I think I have the solution.
We stop following each other.
Stop reading each other's blogs,
Which sucks because yours is one of my favorites.

I don't want to force you to stop following mine but

How can I post everything that's going on if I'm afraid you'll judge me?

Afraid you'll tell someone or interpret it incorrectly?

This blog is the equivalent of my diary, of counselling,

It's everything I don't tell my friends.

I guess I'm taking the easy way out.
I really admire your writing.
I haven't breathed a word to anyone and I promise I won't.
Please do the same for me, no matter what you read or what you've read.

And please don't stop posting, I would be so upset, feel so guilty.

I even considered not telling you because I didn't want you to feel like you couldn't use blogger anymore.
And now you've left tumblr cause people are reading it.
I'm sorry I screwed this up for you.

I've already read all your posts so it's okay if you do the same.

But, please don't utter a word.

Please.

Thank-you for being so nice to me when I started.

Fair's fair.
I thought I should tell you on our own turf.

It's Grace.

letterhead #4

Dear future me,
I'm sorry I didn't study
for bio (and probably all the others)
I just hate this. I hate what's happening
and how little control i have over it.
I hate how I had control but I gave it up.
I hate how it makes me feel.
I hate how I told Bella, but she brushed it off, so I did too ( i hate how that didn't work).
I hate how when I think of the future I only feel despair,
how it seems so close to being too hard.
And now I'm choking on my own tears.

It's just hard, you know? Just
hold on till your play
it'll be good then.
With love,

letterhead #3

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Dear you,
I went through and read all your posts today
and that's when i realised.
Frozen raspberries, that's all you said, but that was enough.
So now,
I think I know something about you.
And you don't want people to know.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I found out,
I'm sorry I stole a part of you that was private and made it mine as well.
(even if it made me feel better)
This changes things.
Because we don't actually know each other.
But I always have wanted to know you,
you just never seemed to really like me.
and now you've stopped blogging.
and i wonder if you realised first and stopped.

But this is my secret too,
so maybe we'll just have to share.
maybe it won't matter because you'll never read this and i'll never say anything.

But if you do:
i did always want to be friends.
i'm sorry i didn't realise how sad you were earlier this year.
i'm sorry i found out.
please don't tell anyone.
because i've written these things because i can't say them
because i don't want to.
because there are consequences and i've discovered that.
and please don't judge (i didn't)
also, i meant every word in the poem.

i don't know if this will change our friendship.
mostly i think it won't.

if you really have stopped.
congratulations, i guess blogging is almost a process of healing.
you've completed the test.

with love,

i wonder if i shall post this.

letterhead #2

Dear c,
sorry.
but apparently it was mutual anyway.
thats okay then.
Have a nice life.

With love,

letterhead #1

dear c,
sorry they say what they say
even if you don't hear it and i deny it.
it would hurt you if you knew.
don't worry, they lie
he loves you.
i know he does.

with love,

p.s. i really do want to be friends.