break-up-letters

When I was seventeen I fell in love with a boy and his lips and the way they felt against mine mixed with cold winter air.
I thought I had found him.
I loved him so much, baby. I swore he was the only one for me.
He was an addiction. I never knew what love felt like until I saw the way he looked at me in the middle of a crowded room.
He was everything, baby. I would’ve died to see him smile. And if I’m being honest.. To this day, his laugh is still the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.
He left, and I spent months choking up every “I love you” that ever escaped his lips. He ruined every happy song and every sad song. He consumed me, and the loss of him shook me to the core.
I felt the loss deep in my soul and I swore to God I’d never be okay again, not without him.
I didn’t want to love if it wasn’t him.
I spent days in bed and I read every single sad poem I could possibly read and cried and cried and cried into my mothers arms. And slowly, I learned.

But baby, heartbreak happens. And it fades. I’m telling you this because I know.
It will be okay.

Cry when he leaves.
Cry when you see him with another girl a week after he said, “I don’t love you anymore.” You are not weak.
Stay home from school and crawl into my arms. I will be here forever, I promise you this.
Scream if you need to. Let’s burn his sweatshirt in the backyard.
Baby, you will love again.
You’re bruised, you are never broken.
I know how much this hurts.
I’m so proud of you.

—  The letter I’ll give to my daughter when her first love breaks her heart
because we really needed another au meme, that's why.
  • give me a ship/character and a number, and get headcanons/a ficlet/a six word or similarly shortish story/a gifset, edit, or picspam/a fanart/a mix/whatever else I feel like doing for:
  • 1:All night diner at two in the morning AU
  • 2:Art school, museum, gallery, etc. AU
  • 3:Ballet, tap, interpretive, modern, some kind of dance AU (professional dance, dance classes, high school dances, burlesque or stripper AUs, anything as long as dance is involved somehow)
  • 4:Bakery, coffee shop, ice cream place, restaurant, etc. AU
  • 5:Car breaks down in the middle of nowhere AU
  • 6:Dimly lit intimate music club or karaoke bar AU
  • 7:Exobiology AU (the search for and study of extraterrestrial life)
  • 8:Figure skating, ice dancing, etc. AU (elaborate costumes optional but encouraged)
  • 9:Gift shop, knick knack shop, curiosities shop, etc. AU
  • 10:Hipster, punk, goth, etc. AU
  • 11:Hockey AU (ice hockey, field hockey, table hockey, tonsil hockey, whatever)
  • 12:Indie bookstore, record store, comic shop, etc. AU
  • 13:Journalist, news blogger, gossip blogger, etc. AU
  • 14:Kissing booth AU
  • 15:Library AU
  • 16:Masquerade-less AU (vampires, werewolves, and other supernatural beings are known and integrated into society however you want)
  • 17:Merfolk or other aquatic mythical creatures AU
  • 18:Musicians/band/something of this nature AU
  • 19:Nanny, babysitter, childcare, etc. AU
  • 20:Nymphs and nature spirits AU
  • 21:Office job AU (hilarious shenanigans optional but encouraged)
  • 22:Performance artists AU
  • 23:Pet rescue/shelter volunteer AU
  • 24:Queer bar/bookstore/advocacy group/coffee shop/setting of your choice AU
  • 25:Renaissance festival or other historical reenactment AU
  • 26:Sex shop, adult bookstore, etc.
  • 27:Slam poetry AU
  • 28:Speed dating after being single for a while AU
  • 29:Sports/athletic displays of some kind AU (asker's choice on sport)
  • 30:Teachers and/or teachers' aides AU
  • 31:Theatre AU (theatre kids/university theatre department AU, professional theatre AU, community theatre AU, techies AU, local Rocky Horror shadow cast AU, investigating a ghost story in a haunted theatre AU, whatever you want, these are just some ideas)
  • 32:Trans, genderqueer, nonbinary interpretations AU (pick an additional number for the setting, e.g. "32+2" for trans characters in an art school AU. NOTE: do feel free to make the characters trans and/or nonbinary without needing to have it specified, but definitely write trans and/or enby interpretations for this prompt)
  • 33:Upstairs apartment over the used record store AU
  • 34:Vineyard AU (visiting, owning, working at, whatever)
  • 35:Wedding planner AU
  • 36:Xerox machine shenanigans AU
  • 37:Youtube/Vine/Vimeo/video-based social media celebrity AU
  • 38:Zucchini AU (I have no idea what this means either, just do something with zucchinis, okay. take chances, get messy, make up AUs)

To the boy I’ll always love,

It’s been a while since we last talked. It’s been two months now, to be exact. But who’s counting, right? I’m not sure why I’m writing you this letter when I know you’ll never actually read it but I guess I just want closure, you know? And I feel like this is it.

I miss you, that’s the first thing I need you to know. All those memories we made, they mean everything to me and it cuts vein-deep to know we’ll never make more of them… they had to mean something to you too, right? I’m not going crazy? You actually liked having me around, right? I don’t even know what to believe anymore, honestly.

But what I do know is that I miss you.

How we first started talking in Algebra class and how we’d get in trouble because we were talking too much. The time when I stayed for football practice and the smell of fresh cut grass that was in the air when you hugged me for the first time. Or how we sat together and laughed for what seemed like forever during lunch on the last week of school. One of my favorite memories is Valentine’s Day. You remember that day? God, how could you possibly forget? I still have everything you gave me in my room, you know? I can’t even begin to process the thought of throwing it all away.

Everyone tells me that I should just forget you. So many more ask me why it is I still bother to give you the time of day when all you do is hurt me, and I always tell them that I don’t know. Isn’t that when you know you’re in love? When you don’t know why it’s so hard to forget them, but it just is? God, but how can I love you when we never even dated? I just can’t comprehend that…

I have good days and bad days when it comes to thinking of you. Somedays I smile and think of the way you’d come to school with your new ridiculous haircuts, other days I can’t help but cry in the shower so my family won’t know how broken you left me that summer day.

Life without you… it actually isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. That has to be a good sign, I know it. I’m getting by and I can actually go out and have fun every once in a while without thinking of your hands or your black jeans or how you’d walk in front of me on your way to second period.

I even started to talk to someone. He was great, and he could make me laugh, and the best part of it all was that he didn’t have your smile or eyes. He wasn’t you and it made me believe that maybe I didn’t need you as much as I thought I did. But you know what? He couldn’t replace the memories you already gave me. He’s amazing and any girl out there could easily learn to love him if they gave him the proper time of day, but no one will ever be able to compete with the way you left me feeling every time you’d smile a goodbye at me.

People tell me that moving on comes with time, but the thing is, I’m not even sure I want to forget everything you gave me. You took pieces of me I didn’t even know I had and I have no fucking idea how to get them back. I know you don’t even care and this is probably a waste of my time but if I don’t say this now, it’ll burn into my lungs until I find the guts to think of it again. I’m not sure why it is we drifted but if there’s anything I regret in this life, it’s letting you go so easily when all I wanted to do was try and make it right with you.

I’ve written so many things about you, so many poems and letters and it hurts to know that I have to write about you just to make sure the broken parts of me don’t make me fade the way you did. I fucking hate not having you around anymore but it is what it is… Just - just know that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to keep you with me.

I watched you walk away that afternoon on the 4th of June, watched you until you were no longer there. You were wearing the shirt you wore on Valentine’s Day. And those stupid Adidas that you would wear everyday but I absolutely adored them. You didn’t even glance back. All I wanted was to get a last look at you before you were no longer in my life anymore because I knew then what that moment was. It was my one-sided goodbye. A goodbye you didn’t have to go through. I just wanted more time - that’s all I wanted. I wanted more pictures, more laughs, more words, more memories. I wanted more of you.

I’m so sorry for being so selfish. But I understand now that you were never mine and you never fucking will be. I saw the way you used to look at that one girl during lunch. Maybe you’ll give her a chance one day - a chance you never gave me. Find someone to commit to, darling. Make sure she doesn’t break your heart. Don’t fall in love just to get hurt, please. Find a girl who’ll love you the way I did. Find a girl who’ll love you even more.

I have no idea where you are at the moment. Maybe you’re at home playing video games, maybe you’re out in Italy exploring the world or maybe you’re at the park walking your Chocolate Labrador. It doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing, but don’t you ever forget that I’ll be thinking about you and wondering if you’re thinking about me too, even for the slightest second.

But I’m done writing about you, honey. I can’t write about you forever. I’m done with it all. I know you are too. But forgetting you… how does one do that? How do I forget all the love songs that remind me of you now? How do I get the sound of your voice out of my aching, swollen veins? How did you forget me? Teach me how to forget you, please, I can’t take it anymore.

I fucking hate you so much, you fucking know that? I’m angry and sad and frustrated and pissed off all because of you. You’re nothing but a fucking boy who needs to grow up and I hope no one ever treats you the way you treated me, you shit.

I don’t even know what emotion to feel anymore. I-I’m so tired of screaming at my bedroom walls and wailing for you to come back. You killed me that afternoon and I don’t know how to forgive you for it anymore. I can’t hate you, I can’t love you, so what can I fucking do?

I can’t-…

Just - can this be our proper goodbye? Something I can remember without it bringing the most bitter taste to my throat? You make it through life, babe. Make something of yourself, succeed.

But think of me from time to time, yeah? Don’t let me fade. Keep me there when you think no one loves you.

Know I’ll always love you, even if I’m in the arms of someone else. They won’t ever be able to erase what you left me with.

I’m sorry this is so long and lengthy but I just really needed you to know this; I can’t walk away now without having you know what it is I felt for you and how I felt when you dropped me.

I hate having to finally say this and actually mean it now, but… goodbye.

You’ll be okay, I know. You’ve always been the strongest of us too and I’ve always hated you for it.

I’m done holding on.

From, the girl who has nothing left to say

—  August 4, 2014
to the girl he finds after me

Good luck. I hope you can handle mood swings. I hope you know that when he’s being an asshole that its (probably) not your fault. I hope you’re okay losing every male friend you’ve ever had because if not you’ll lose him over his jealousy, but hey, but I also hope you know he’ll always talk to girls because “they’re his friends.” I hope you can always be there for him but never expect him to do the same. I hope he doesn’t treat you as shitty as he did me. I hope you see the ruins he made of me and never let him do the same to you. I hope you love yourself enough to walk away from him when you realize he changes with the seasons and will force you to change soon. But most importantly, I hope you know how thankful I am that he found you, because it’s piece of mind to know that I won’t ever crawl back into his life looking to pick up where we left off. 

I hate you.
I hate the way your shakey voice could brighten up my darkest days but now it resembles my hands holding this old picture of us,
I hate the way this canvas reminds me of your pasty white skin and the only thing I can think of when I want to paint now is the heartache that you caused me,
I hate the way our love was hard and destructive, like ocean waves to sand castles,
I hate you,
I hate you,
I love you.
—  You left me
Love is knowing that if he leaves I will be left heaving sobs and vomit into the toilet as I lay lifelessly on the bathroom floor. Love is knowing that I am giving him the power to break me and still melting into his arms each night as he sighs my name into my mouth. Love is giving him the gun and letting him hold it to my skull with quivering fingers. Love is deciding that should he choose to pull the trigger, he is the one thing I have worth dying for.
—  j.b., what I know of love.
I still text you.
I write about how much I miss you, how much I loved you, how you dragged your fingertips across my back and how many times I tried to recreate that on my wrists.
I write about how I buy your favorite cologne and spray it all over my bedsheets so that I can smell you again.
I write about how I stopped drinking and smoking because you always told me that it was a bad habit, even though I know that I’m lying.
I write about how I still make dinner for two and never let guests sit in your chair.
I write about how I kept our old pictures, and how I framed them on my walls.
—  I never send them
He was the kinda guy that could make me melt with simple stare.
He was the kinda that made me smile even when the stars seemed to be crashing down around me.
He was the guy that I thought would always be by my side.
But then he broke me, he left and he took that smile with him.

And now he’ll never be that guy again.
—  Letters to you #2
People keep asking me
If I regret you
And everything we were.
If I would take it all back.
And my answer has been consistently this;
No. I would not trade what we had for the moon or the stars.
I do not think back on memories of you
And let my heart get sad.
I’m glad I share those memories with someone so worthy of them.
They are our memories and ours alone.
No one can know them or take them.
And whether or not they mean as much to you as they do to me
Is not the point.
The point is you made me feel
And you made me breathe
And I will never regret that.
—  O