#thedreamwrites

You don’t feel particularly great at anything. You don’t really want much in terms of big, extravagant goals.

You just want to make everyone feel welcomed and loved. To support them. To have a family. To be loved.

But the world isn’t too kind to simple ambitions like these, you soon find out you have to work for everything you want.

And sometimes it feels like you even have to work for love. But you’re almost sure it should be easier.

You put your whole heart into every relationship, and you have some scars to show for it.

It’s not that you regret loving, but you wonder if it’s even love sometimes. I mean, all you want is to be seen right? To be loved? Held close at night?

What’s so wrong with that?

Moreover, why does it seem difficult for the ones you want that comfort from to give it to you?

So you figure, like everything else, you’ll work hard for love. You make a five course meal out of scraps.

You hate it, but at least it’s something.

Then the day comes where you discover a love that sets your soul alight. You’ve ‘loved’ so many other people, but this one just feels right. It feels like the first time.

Everything is like a dream until you’re hit with the cold reality that they deserve better. Or so you think.

Letting go hurts, but you do it so you won’t hinder the one you love. You learn sacrifice for the first time.

But nobody asked you to do that. You could’ve stayed if you wanted to. Things would’ve worked out.

But you can’t imagine that because of the lovers before.

Older and wiser. You wistfully think of what could have been. You’ve learned from your mistakes and don’t run from them anymore.

But your desires are the same: to love, be loved and to help and have everyone you love together.

You’ll never give up that dream.

You don’t have to.

[A LETTER TO HER, THAT’S REALLY FOR ME- PART ii]

Wanting to make something of yourself before being with someone else. No matter how much you love them. Or how much you know they love you regardless.

It’s not pride as much as it is worry.

You know better than to put all your happiness into their hands. You have a plan you’ve had for years. And now, you’re still holding on to it, knuckles white because without it: who are you?

And how can you be loved for being and not doing?

But it’s sad, because you’re fighting a new desire that’s blossomed comfortably in your heart. You figure this is a curse, because you start to feel like you need him around when you know you don’t.

He’s not a need really. But a sense of comfort.

But it’s all too comfortable, all too sure, all too routine, all too secure. And it’ll blast your plan to bits.

Regardless, you don’t want to let go of either. You’re sure you’ll regret it if you do. But you’re almost sure you can’t have both.

So you let go of what seems easiest - him.

But it cripples you more than you expect. You’re already too used to him, too sure of your love and life together. You can’t let go. You’re only suffering yourself for no reason.

But he’s living his dream already. Your dream will ensure you have yours. Or at least a chance to.

Letting go of your dream is also unbearable, because how can you let go of all your passions for love?

Nobody is asking that of you. But you fear it’s a consequence just waiting to happen. At some point, someone has to make a sacrifice. And you’re all too sure it will be you.

It’s an impossible choice. You mull over it day after day in your head.

But you keep forgetting - nobody is asking you to choose.

Though it’s easier to create external chaos than acknowledge that which rages within you.

You can’t fathom you can have it all with someone by your side, because you’ve only known people not sticking around.

And I’m sorry. But please try to let him in.

[A LETTER TO HER, THAT’S REALLY FOR ME - Part i]

And I am a woman. I may not be able to shelter you through every storm or guarantee you safety from harm. My arms are not big enough or strong enough.

But my bosom will bear you as you weep. I can hold you closely as you sleep, so this time you can release soft even breaths and actually rest.

And I will fight for you. Win, lose or draw- I will stand by you.

I am a woman. I don’t have a strong back like a man to bear the weight of the world on my shoulders. But on my back I can push and push and push until I bear you a new one.

The only way I know how to love is to endure.

Heads.

I can slide down easily. Easy as a fish oil pill. Yet for some reason, you don’t choke on me. You

You find a way to consume me, you

When you say you love me: do you mean me?