Every Heart Has Its Own Skeletons

Uh no

What was real needs no words, it’s self evident. I also know what I carried before I ever knew its name.

Some love does not beg to be believed. It simply remains quiet, stubborn, and impossible to make untrue.

Hurt is a thick choking fog over everything it touches. It is not to be argued with, only to be understood and respected.

Pain may need a simpler story, a clean cut. But truth could never be so small.

It holds the love and the damage. The devotion and what failed to protect it. The sacred parts, even beneath the total wreckage.

My hands held both clouds and sun. The grief will always outweigh the pride. Just as my growth will outlive the wounds I once let lead me.

Still, a small light will remain where the dark will never reach. So I may always recognize you. Not the ending,

You.

Perhaps in another life, the light will be easier to recognize.

But now,

lol too long of an answer and too personal for an ask.

What’s important is that they know, that’s all I care about. What they do with that is up to them.

For you? Just know I’ve never been more certain about anything. I’ve never felt or taken long needed actions before, this person truly is like no other. If they ever questioned whether they were truly loved, I hope they know the answer by now was always yes. However, I had to heal, and I chose to be honest even here about the ugliest parts of myself. The resulting clarity is both freedom and confinement in one. Because of them I feel seen. Because of them I also got to feel a deep purpose.

When it’s the right person, it’s well beyond logic which is the only way my brain usually operates. Like a thread is always connected no matter the distance. Her voice is silk, her eyes honey, her desire is wildfire that I burn in every time with need for more. Words are not my art, but to me she is human perfection down to their faults. She exudes something ethereal I don’t know if anyone else can feel - not even herself - but I do.

Make her laugh (often)

Make her cum (repeatedly)

Make her a wife (once)

Make her dream (nightly)

Make her needy (constantly)

Make her a mother (if she wants)

Make her proud (daily)

Make her a home (forever)

Make her peace (consistently)

Make Her your life.

It’s not that you can’t live without them. It’s that life becomes more fully itself with them while life without them feels like merely surviving.

Taking a break on anons for a bit but this is one of the most genuine ones I’ve ever received, thank ya.

Again, so much context missing to give something helpful. I’m sorry

It was a long time coming but I no longer liked who I was seeing and I stopped being proud of who I was. I may answer another anon message I saw sometime which will give a little more insight.

I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.