Dear X:

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You,

I would imagine it's really difficult to smirk or snicker with a cock forcefully buried in your mouth and my hand tangled in your hair. You're welcome to try, though.

-FT

And -you-

Maybe I've mastered smirking with a cock in my mouth. I'm a woman of many talents.

You might win at snickering.

Might.
 
Dear X,

Well that was pottles of awesomeness :D and thank you for listening. You get to name the television show.

Me
 
Dear X

I just wonder what the hell happened that night... Wish I was there to see it with my own eyes. Wish I knew who did it to you and why. But most of all I wish it never happened.. The men you showed me that night, I dont know him, I was scared of him. I know we all got our "demons" and I guess I do too, but yours scares me. I was seriously afraid of you that night and I still dont know what to think. I still got this odd feeling in me, not sure how to get ride of it.... sigh

~me
 
Dear X:

I've been repressing my inner romantic since high school. I didn't realize it until you saw me, saw her and the many times she's been crushed. My delicate sensibilities, bruised like a rose petal. If I could, I'd find a way to sneak love notes into your wallet, your pockets, your car... I'd want to make you smile. To make you feel as special as I do when we're together.

You make me feel like a teenager again (in all the right ways). I feel butterflies every time I see you. I'm on cloud 9 for hours; if you leave me with a mark, days. ;)

I spare you the repetition because I suspect it makes you uncomfortable (or you don't believe me), but I'm not ashamed to say- I love you. I really do. I couldn't go down this road hand-in-hand with anyone else. I'm glad we chose to.

You're one of my very favorite people.
So there.
:heart: ~ me
 
Dear X Y and Z

It's been a long time since I ranted to complete strangers. So excuse if it's a bit long.

You don't see what is behind the mask because all you see is the anger and hurt that I hold towards you. Ever since I went into the mental hospital, all you can think of is the fact that one of the diagnosis says that I have a manipulative personality. You can't get over it, always accusing me of trying to break something, someone, and keeping everything to everyone else. You don't see the hurt that I deal with after you leave, after the angry words, because you don't care in the fact that all you see in me is the blood running through both of our veins.

Have you ever wondered why I am so fucked up in the first place? Why my childhood was so disastrous to put me in the place I am today? No. All you can think of is yourself, even though you call me the narcissistic one. But yet, you yell at me for not doing something when you yourself don't do it. You yell at me because I won't talk to you when all I get is the silence or anger in return. You are now completely infuriated with me because I have decided that my life, the whole 20 years of it, have been cooped up being molded and brought to rely on my family, and now I am taking charge of it instead.

My plane leaves on the 3rd of September and all you can worry about is if the world will end before then. Because you know once I leave, I will never come back, unless its for something important. You know that once I leave, that I will be heading into life and never looking back because I told you before I don't live my life full of regrets. I won't live my life that way. I will no longer try to hop from male to male, because that is all I see in front of me. From two different generations, one even flinging with married men.

You're mad because I am going back to someone you hate. Someone that I have put through hell and back and still loves me for me, not for the fact I can work or the fact I am capable of watching children. I am giving him something that I expected to give no one else because I love him and trust him completely. If only you would get out of your cycle of abuse and see what I am doing isn't that. What I am doing is healthier than what you have put into your body, and then some.

Here is to new beginnings, struggling to make ends meet, and taking charge of life. Because in three weeks, I won't look back.
 
Dear X:

The day I got lost in the woods, I refused to scream your name for hours,
(was it 2? just 1? it felt like 5)
too proud to submit.
I can think of more than a few ways to submit now...
And I've got zero problem screaming your name. ;)

- the one your Dad called "Sexcapades"
 
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Dear X:

The world is flat without you.

I wish I could've gone Saturday, but the thought that the one person I wanted to see might refuse to look at me was unbearable.

I'm doing my best to approach you humbly.
I'm doing my best to give you space.
I'm doing my best to keep marching despite the phantom pain.

This soundtrack of sighs won't give me peace.
I need your voice, your breath, your laughter.

Like a dog taught to "stay," faithfully yours,
me
 
Dear USA,

you need to start giving cities original names instead of having the same ones in every State. I'm getting all confused.

I can help you come up with new names, if you have trouble with it.

seela
 
Dear USA,

you need to start giving cities original names instead of having the same ones in every State. I'm getting all confused.

I can help you come up with new names, if you have trouble with it.

seela

Even though they are duplicated in every state, look at the names...they are, for the most part, stolen from Europe in the first place!

Maine goes so far as to name their towns after countries! Mexico, Peru, China, Lebanon, even Egypt, etc..

:rolleyes:
 
Dear Earth / Universal Consciousness

Thanks for crisp spring days.

Thanks for good health. Cos it could definitely be worse.

Thanks for great friends and loving (if irritating as fuck) family.

Thank you for being able to love, even when I get kicked in the teeth for it.

Thank you for beautiful ball gowns and tea cups and embossed tiles.

Thank you for some pretty good smarts and interesting talents, even when I don't always use them.

Ok, I hurt and some stuff sucks right now, but it's going to be ok.
 
Dear S:

Sometimes I want to shake you. I want you to pull your head out of your ass and realize how lucky you are to have my sister. She is a catch by any standard; a loving, devoted mother and wife, a beautiful, kind, funny and genuine young woman. She has put up with your infidelity more times than I can count. It's been a long time... This time around, she's beyond suspicious, she "just knows." None of us know. And you keep denying it. I want to believe it isn't true, but something is wrong.

Fix this. Now.
I can't bear to see her hurting and bewildered any longer.
 
Even though they are duplicated in every state, look at the names...they are, for the most part, stolen from Europe in the first place!

Maine goes so far as to name their towns after countries! Mexico, Peru, China, Lebanon, even Egypt, etc..

:rolleyes:

True, true.

My favorite and least favorite town name must be Frankfort. Every time I read the name, my mind goes "come on, if you copy, at least spell it right". But at the same time it makes me snicker. So favorite and least favorite rolled into one.

We have a quarter called Arabia, and tourists always take photos of and giggle at the trams with the sign saying they're going to Arabia.
 
Dear X,

I laugh sometimes when we're upset with one another. It's strange that, given our situation, we can whether the ups and downs of things much better than we would with other people. I'd anticipated it to be the opposite.

There's a kind of comfort that I take from that.

Really, though, I wanted to tell you something very specific and entirely different. You're beautiful. Not in the naked woman turns a man on, kind of way. You're beautiful in the fundamental and intended meaning of the word, kind of way. There's something about the elegance of your shape that communicates a classic kind of beautiful. You seem to work to capture it, even with your expressive ink and piercings, intentionally at times. You wear your hair straight. Or in little waves.

You put so much effort into yourself. It shows. You're gorgeous.

I think of that a lot when I see you.

I think about it a lot more when we're apart.

-Me
 
Dear Life,

OK you can stop now. They say bad things come in 3's but they never said anything about 3 cycles of 3. I shall add this latest to the neverending merry go round of fuckuperrary and wait with bated breath for the next one.

From the horse than can't get off the Merry go round.
 
Dear BBC online weather

Very funny.

Remember this morning when you optimistically stated that it would be 21 degrees and sunny today? And so those of us who get dressed before dawn, and who have got it oh so very wrong before by NOT checking, base our outfit for the day on your forecast?

I've just been walking along the street in the pouring rain, the wind is howling and at best, it's 15 degrees. And people dressed in jeans, boots and anoraks are staring with pity at my chosen attire of thin three quarter length cotton pants, skimpy t shirt and, best of all, open toed sandals. I can't begin to describe the amount of fun my feet are having.

Tomorrow, you say it will be glorious sunshine and 25 degrees. So don't worry - I've got the thermals, Wellington boots and hot water bottle ready.

Yours sincerely

Cold, wet and looking ridiculous of Manchester
 
Dear Life,

OK you can stop now. They say bad things come in 3's but they never said anything about 3 cycles of 3. I shall add this latest to the neverending merry go round of fuckuperrary and wait with bated breath for the next one.

From the horse than can't get off the Merry go round.

:rose:
 
Dear M,

Thank you for holding me when I wobble, for understanding when I rant and standing by me as my health slips.
I love you

Your d xxxxxx
 
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