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Letters - Blog Posts
Dear [Redacted],
I honestly don’t know how to start this, but I have a feeling that it’s going to be quite long. Hope you don’t mind.
Not a single day goes by that you don’t occupy my mind; thoughts of what we had and how if i’d done some things differently we might have had longer together. I genuinely believe that with you, it was the right person, wrong time, wrong place. In college I couldn’t love you the way you deserved, and now I can, but I spend most of my time on the other side of the country, and we barely talk.
I constantly find myself daydreaming about getting you your favourite flowers, and holding your hand, and kissing you. God, how I wish I would’ve had the confidence to kiss you. I should’ve done it. I wanted to so badly. The day you lay in my arms and almost fell asleep as I was playing with your hair? I wish I’d tilted your head up and asked if I could kiss you. I wonder if things would be different if I’d have had the courage.
Northampton has a performing arts degree. Well it’s called “Acting for stage and screen” but it’s basically performing arts. And there’s a theatre literally not even a five minute walk from my current accommodation. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I’ve imagined you coming here and us being together and being able to pursue our dreams in the same space. Little coffee dates where I read novels and you memorise scripts. The sun shining through your hair in the spring and summer. Honestly you must be so so blessed by whatever almighty force there is to be so beautiful, and for that beauty to only be enhanced even more when you’re in the sun.
It’s funny to think about how a few months ago I would have let you kill me. And I don’t mean that figuratively. I mean that if you had a knife in your hand, I’d bare my neck on instinct. I would sit obediently with your shotgun to my skull. I wouldn’t even bring up my hands to stop blows to my ribs. I would let you dismember me. Skin me alive. Bite until the skin tore. Touch me in my sleep. It makes me feel so meek but then I remember I love like a dog. Beautiful and wretched as that may be.
And I did love you. I might still do. I tried to move on, but nothing’s felt the same since. It’s like as soon as we broke up, you took half of my soul with you, leaving what was left to wither up and die. A bit dramatic but it’s true.
If you asked anything of me, I’d come running. I should’ve done that the entire time, but I didn’t.
It’s been about a year and a half since we broke up. Your birthday isn’t in my calendar anymore. It feels like a piece of me is missing.
That time in your living room at your birthday party when we held hands properly for the first time, with your arm wrapped around me and me leaning on your shoulder. As soon as your skin touched mine, I knew it was over for me. I was entirely yours. Now, I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable. But I was your servant. If you starved I would’ve fed you, if you were sick I would’ve tended to you. I would have crawled at your feet. I would have, if I had been braver and loved you the way I wanted to. Before your love I was debased. For you alone I was, and am, weak.
I never did tell you how proud I am of you. The night I got to see you on stage, I was utterly speechless. Perfect doesn’t even begin to describe how you were. As soon as you stepped on that stage, I couldn’t take my eyes off you, even if you weren’t the main person performing. And when you went off again all I could think of was when I would see you next. I should’ve held you afterwards, kissed the side of your head and told you how proud I am of you. You put in so much hard work for it, all while being sick and not knowing what was wrong, and you did incredibly. That whole night the only thing that was going through my head was how much I loved you. But I never told you.
Before the show started as well, when people were getting ready. I was talking to one of the then second years, and you came by, obviously distressed and anxious. I should’ve ended my conversation right then and gone to you, holding you and telling you that everything would be okay and that you would do amazing. But I didn’t. I just watched you out of the corner of my eyes. Even then I knew I was making the wrong decision. I still regret it.
I dream about taking you on a picnic. A flower field or an apple orchard or a grassy meadow in summer. But I don’t know of any near either of us so I’ll have to stick to my imagination. No-one around so we can truly be ourselves, the sun shining on us as I fed you grapes. Or whatever your favourite fruit is. I’ve forgotten. The sun shining through your hair, making you glow. Your eyes bright with happiness. I think it would be perfect. I hope you would agree.
Honestly I only want for one thing now, even though I know it’s probably impossible.
I want you to want me as I want you. Desperately. I want to make you shiver from my touch. I want to hear your voice, breathless and shaky. I want you to say my name like a prayer. Full of devotion. I want to bind together our bodies, intertwine our bones. I want you to devour me. To watch you strip off all layers of my being and digest every single piece.
But I ruined the chances of that happening too soon.
If I’m ever brave enough to give you this and you do read it, I hope you don’t think I’m weird lol. I hope you realise that you still own half of my soul, and that there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about you and what we had, and how I should’ve treated you. I regret so much and I just wish I had a chance to love you the way you deserve and to show you how amazing you are.
There’s so so so much more I want to say but I can’t find the words.
You’ve always had that effect on me, making me speechless.
You’re incredible.
Love, yours
From my side, to you:
Thank you loves, for being here and for your support. I want you to know I see you, see what you have and are going through. And I just want to say you make me so proud of you, and take a hug from my side as well... It's not easy, the journey you have taken (especially when you don't even know what path you are on) and regardless, you are going forward. It's hard to live in the unknown, and yet you are here. Thank you, thank you for your existence. May you see that your words, and you matter so much. 🧡
Their will so strong,
A literacy piece, I want to dedicate to [Your name] -
A long lost painting
In the blip of existence,
They came to surrender,
Their love in fragments,
Yet ever being foolish,
They fix the broken mirrors that their demons ravaged,
Giving this being in front of them
a portrait of spring
Colors of the forbidden fruit
of hope
~ by a stranger to another.
Thank You!
THE LETTER (by joud abu rashed)
Words: A single distinct meaningful element of speech or writing, used with others (or sometimes alone) to form a sentence and typically shown with a space on either side when written or printed. Words are a way to express one’s self, they show emotion, they might hurt someone, end relationships, start wars, they can be used as a weapon, since words are an important factor of both freedom and democracy, but most importantly words impact people, either negatively or positively depending on the situation. the war has ended a year ago marking a new age of democracy, it started since poverty was spreading like an illness due to the evils of monarchy so naturally the people protested their rights using their words but they weren’t heard the government was deaf to their pleas so a war eventually broke out in order to gain justice. Chaos and confusion that’s was how I lived after all I was a child an orphan who lost both parents and any sense of peace or security I ever had. I was lost, starving, with no will to live in this cruel world. Along with the bloodshed, something happened or rather someone came and rescued me.
His name was Ashton Arlert, He was a kind man with a heart of gold. He took me in, provided me with every necessity. He taught me how to read and write, how to use a gun and protect myself just in case I find myself in a difficult position, but most importantly he gave me a will, a will to live. After years of suffering the war ended which lead me to decide to live a normal life, so I moved out to pursue my own career as a ghostwriter in a small company. You see after the war there was a huge decrease in people who knew how to write, which meant ghostwriters (especially for letters) became widely popular. My job required me to listen to people, to observe and analyze their emotions then find the right words that fit the message they want to present. I had my own life, friends, responsibilities, etc yet Ashton never left my mind, he was like a father to me and I never showed him how much I appreciated what he had done towards me so I decided to write a letter to him. I was a professional writer with tons of experience yet I struggled with it (ironic isn’t it). For days and days all I would do is stare at an empty piece of paper with a cramped hand longing for words. Needless to say I was frustrated. I wrote and I wrote as if I was running out of time but nothing, just nothing. Everything I wrote would soon become another crumpled piece of paper in the trash, till one day while the smell of my morning coffee was mixing with the smell of ink coming from my pen I suddenly found the words that I longed for. I ran to the post office with the feeling of relief in my lungs and a hint of excitement in my eyes. It was a quite night when he received the wax sealed letter, he looked at the handwriting a sense of nostalgia flooded him. He held it with his wrinkled hands as he read it with tears flooding his ocean blue eyes. The letter simply said “Thank you, Ashton, for everything. Sincerely Nadia” A simple phrase that’s all it took to bring a grown man to tears.
Senior letters are so hard to write because of how blurry my vision gets with the tears.
The worry that this is all going to end and I’m never going to talk to them again. The sadness of knowing that our roads are going down different paths.
The pride I feel of how far they’ve come and how many different adventures we’ve gone on. The inside jokes. The stories. The lore.
The vulnerable moments. The good times. The bad times.
And I have to summarize all of that and include well wishes in a single letter????
My heart is going to explode. I love every one of these people so much.
Why do stupid english letters look so boring like russian and arabic look so cool then normal letters
like i can write ine a russian and i can look so cool like что ты имеешь в виду, я не могу использовать перевод? LOOK BRO honestly smash every russians i see
I was messing with the different fonts on my drawing app and this happened.
Alternates Below:
01.15.21 / start-of-semester letters
For work... I visit everything (related to art) with pleasure and interest, because then I have to write about it. One exhibition replaces another...
Today I was most attracted by an art object with old letters... Someone's correspondence. I wondered if it would be interesting to look into it... What if there were someone's secrets or something that would hurt... To be the keeper of someone else's secret or to share someone else's pain... No...
I guess there's a reason they say you can't read other people's letters.
Leave me alone I’m literally just a syriac feminine dot
Hello people of tumblr,
I have been working on a project to fix the English language. This includes making every vowel make only one sound, removing unnecessary letters, and adding new grammatical symbols. The goal is to make English a phonetic language that is easy for immigrants and people with dyslexia to learn! If you would like to participate in this experiment, click here https://discord.gg/AAmmyH5j
I am but a humble highschool linguist, but I would appreciate your support :)
sending a letter to my ex (??) who’s in jail
abandoning love letters was such a bad idea. tell me how are we going to reminisce old loves. screenshots??
;w;;; 💕Recently finished watching Violet Evergarden.. WAAH I'm not crying!! you are!! (>,﹏<)′
𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖢𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖫𝖸 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱𝖲, 𝖴𝖭𝖪𝖭𝖮𝖶𝖭 : : 𝖲. 𝖪𝖨𝖸𝖮𝖮𝖬𝖨 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/241046284-%F0%9D%96%B2%F0%9D%96%A8%F0%9D%96%AD%F0%9D%96%A2%F0%9D%96%A4%F0%9D%96%B1%F0%9D%96%A4%F0%9D%96%AB%F0%9D%96%B8-%F0%9D%96%B8%F0%9D%96%AE%F0%9D%96%B4%F0%9D%96%B1%F0%9D%96%B2-%F0%9D%96%B4%F0%9D%96%AD%F0%9D%96%AA%F0%9D%96%AD%F0%9D%96%AE%F0%9D%96%B6%F0%9D%96%AD-%F0%9D%96%B2-%F0%9D%96%AA%F0%9D%96%A8%F0%9D%96%B8%F0%9D%96%AE%F0%9D%96%AE%F0%9D%96%AC%F0%9D%96%A8
【𝑆𝐴𝐾𝑈𝑆𝐴 𝐾𝐼𝑌𝑂𝑂𝑀𝐼】
❝𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑❞
- In which Sakusa Kiyoomi had recently been receiving mysterious letters from an unknown admirer he secretly grew fond of.
Just Bruce writing letters to Clark <3
And is waiting for him
I keep all the letters and birthday cards I’ve ever gotten. ☺️☺️☺️ So nostalgic for the good old days. #nostalgia #letters #birthdaycard #remembering #rememberme
QUICK
which one of these is cuter?
ℬ or 𝒰
So, Audrey and Aubrey... What dumbass parent switched up their d's and b's and created a new name??? More importantly which name came first! This is like the, "Which came first the ostrich or the egg?" but with names!!!
He also gave his kids a goblin themed (the North Polar Bear comes up with it based on goblin cave art) writing system to decipher, it's legitimately good.
If you can get a copy of the book, I seriously recommend you do. It's such a good read.
I know everyone talks about how Tolkien infused his war ptsd into LOTR but did you know he wrote letters to his kids from 'santa' and they include a full on war with goblins to save Christmas?? And polar bears and elves (the shelf kind) getting injured and starving like this man could never be chill he had to have a battle and I love that for him
—Sylvia Plath, Letter to Aurelia Plath, 4th May 1962