mugi

I hope you can give me the same level of confidentiality as I confide in tumblr and rant my heart out. Even as I express my overwhelming love and insatiable need for you, never think to contact me. I feel as if no-contact remains the best thing for both you and I.

If there is a small chance you are reading this though, I hope you know just how much despair and anguish you’ve caused me.

Good grief plssssss HML #NeedThat

When I see him there isn’t an ounce of love anymore

Why must I feel this way? How can I lose love for someone I loved so dearly?

I miss you _____, I always will. And I will always think about you as I grow older, and you stay the same. I will always wish that I could have had just one more day with you.

Maybe I’d say all the things I wish I said.

Maybe I’ll think I’d be happier with him still in my life too.

I told them that they don’t need to reply to my letter. i know it’s over

I just wanted to gut my feelings out so I would know that it’s truly finished, and that chapter is closed permanently.

One I loved as a lover, the other as a best friend-turned love, I will still care for them — just from afar.

This song is vibes for today TBH. I don’t know how I would have survived without Gojo Satoru because I am obsessing over him so bad and projecting my feelings into a fictional character so I wouldn’t have to face reality.

Also, I feel so bittersweet in the way that our chapter is truly closed. Like it doesn’t feel real to me.

Maybe college is finally hitting me? Maybe it’s come to the point where I realize i’m going to be leaving everyone in a couple months?

Also I feel like we are splitting so FML

I want you, k____.

I miss your overdosed cologne and numerous hair products sprawled across the floor. I miss the way you honked at me when parked outside my driveway, being the very epitome of freedom I had from my parents’ dull abode.

I miss the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you had a chance to speak about your favorite video game, the way you bit the inside of your cheek when nervous.

I miss these little things about you that make you, you. I think our friendship can return to normal one day, I believe that fate has a plan for us — that we will align with one another and cross paths once again.

Albeit a romantic relationship would be in my favor, I wouldn’t mind you in my life as just friends — maybe it would give me the opportunity to truly understand and appreciate you in a non-romantic light. Like the character of Light Yagami almost; I hope I can learn to value your importance in my life, despite my own personal virtues and shortcomings.

I hope one day I can lay down with you by the beach, watching as I see you enamored by creating a sand castle as the sun goes down.

i wish for a beach proposal, with red rose petals scattered across the sand in an adorned area.

The feeling of pure etascy would be ubiquitous, as you and I would smile in the darkening light as you smiled and asked for my eternal hand in marriage.

…..and then, I wake up.

I return to my dull, autonomous lifestyle — limited to any romantic or external pleasure, bound to my sewing machine and 1780 television as I watch re-runs of the anime Prince of Tennis, with a table filled with newly re-homed threads bought in a frenzy from the now closed Joann’s.

But on the fantasy side, I dream of us being newly weds, celebrating our honeymoon in the coast of Australia — back to the mainland we’ve both grown to love and respect. I would show you the pleasures of Brisbane, and we’d travel amongst Australia Zoo as we delve into the exhilarating past of the Irwins.

Perhaps this would happen. Perhaps you and I would rush to the nearest hotel room, like a Hard Rock Cafe in Tampa, Florida — eagerly swiping our hotel room card as you push up my skirt.

In another life, you and I both took opposite corners of a tiny bedroom, painting the monotonous walls blue and white as we expect a newborn son.

Maybe this could happen one day, if there was any possibility, then you know where I am.

I haven’t seen you in so so long

although it’s only been three weeks

it felt like forever to me

I thought you’d yell. I knew you wanted to

But you knew I was stressed — so you drove me to your house.

You put down your newest shirt and shorts and signaled for me to put them on to feel comfortable.

You made us drinks, still remembering my favorite one.

You sat down besides me on your couch, setting down your drink on the small table while you turned to face me.

Did you still love me?

Why won’t you speak to me?

it comes to me in small, anti-climatic waves.

Shopping at joann’s for fabric, I would see a checkered print and reminisce about the scarf you used to dearly love.

You no longer wear that scarf — now merely a decorative item in your messy room.

Maybe it’s symbolic of the change you’ve been through. My beloved has become someone even he himself struggles to recognize.

It started from your haircut — the ends that you would twirl and play with becoming relics of the past.

The lighter, dyed ends snipped to morph your hair into its original, raven roots.

Your change tinkered down to your style: your strict ‘no-color’ rule that you’ve embodied only grew stronger: you wore blank shirts and variations of black cargo pants and sweats.

I never knew such a physical metamorphosis would reflect on the the type of person you were as well. My beloved who would spend hours into the night commenting on my horrendous style choices while putting on clown makeup has now watered his humor down to a certain bakery in irvine.

I miss these little parts of you. I wish they’d come back. I miss you. No other man, no matter how good, can ever come close to you.

I would have never let him in my room, or near my bed, or let his hands linger closer than socially acceptable. I wouldn’t have let his lips touch mine, nor would I have given him the permission to undress me….Why why why did I not listen to my parents? Who told me not to have any sort of intimate relationship with a man because they’ll end up leaving you.

Well he did anyways even though he promised to stay. I still think about his little smile once I took off my clothes, maybe that’s what I should have done more to get him to stay? Maybe I didn’t give him enough?

Why did I take his attention for granted? Now he will seek pleasure from another girl, another girl who can give him sex and shut up until he’s done. I think he disliked me because I would protest, I would make myself difficult to get.

I hate physical touch, I have hated it ever since I was a child. I loved him so much to the point where touching didn’t sound so bad, I really loved him.

I still remember how I felt after he wanted to go farther the first time, it was late at night and I drove him home after he got drunk at an after party with L****.

I took him up to his dorm to let him rest, and he closed the door on and tumbled towards me.

He pushed me against the wall as he closed the gap between us with a kiss.

If I had said no, would I be happier right now? Knowing I never allowed our relationship physically intimate?

If it was just texting and hangouts, maybe i would have been over him by now. But it’s my fault. My fault for letting him get so close, so personal.

I’m stuck with the memory of his love, whilst he is stuck with the memory of me and the other girls he’s coaxed into sleeping with him.