"October 17, 1946
DāArline,
I adore you, sweetheart.
I know how much you like to hear that ā but I donāt only write it because you like it ā I write it because it makes me warm all over inside to write it to you.
It is such a terribly long time since I last wrote to you ā almost two years but I know youāll excuse me because you understand how I am, stubborn and realistic; and I thought there was no sense to writing.
But now I know my darling wife that it is right to do what I have delayed in doing, and that I have done so much in the past. I want to tell you I love you. I want to love you. I always will love you.
I find it hard to understand in my mind what it means to love you after you are dead ā but I still want to comfort and take care of you ā and I want you to love me and care for me. I want to have problems to discuss with you ā I want to do little projects with you. I never thought until just now that we can do that. What should we do. We started to learn to make clothes together ā or learn Chinese ā or getting a movie projector. Canāt I do something now? No. I am alone without you and you were the āidea-womanā and general instigator of all our wild adventures.
When you were sick you worried because you could not give me something that you wanted to and thought I needed. You neednāt have worried. Just as I told you then there was no real need because I loved you in so many ways so much. And now it is clearly even more true ā you can give me nothing now yet I love you so that you stand in my way of loving anyone else ā but I want you to stand there. You, dead, are so much better than anyone else alive.
I know you will assure me that I am foolish and that you want me to have full happiness and donāt want to be in my way. Iāll bet you are surprised that I donāt even have a girlfriend (except you, sweetheart) after two years. But you canāt help it, darling, nor can I ā I donāt understand it, for I have met many girls and very nice ones and I donāt want to remain alone ā but in two or three meetings they all seem ashes. You only are left to me. You are real.
My darling wife, I do adore you.
I love my wife. My wife is dead.
Rich.
PS Please excuse my not mailing this ā but I donāt know your new address."
Richard Feynman fell in love with Arline Greenbaum at the age of 13, and they soon began dating. The couple planned to get married, but a few years later, Arline was diagnosed with tuberculosis. The disease did not affect Feynman's choice; they got married and lived together for some time. Arline died at the age of 25. The letter was written a year and a half after her death and was first made public 43 years later, after Feynman himself had passed away.
I donāt know why I like it; itās just pure pain.
Jun 10, 2024
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Sometimes it just pops out of nowhere, sometimes itās just a passing memory and sometimes out of the blue I feel the weight of what happened. I had a best friend, a person with which I connected in a way I never did with anyone. She moved out of the city and with that she stopped any communication with me. I miss her. I miss her so much. I feel like I must have fucked up big time for this to be happening. In our last call I told her I was worried we would lose contact with the distance and she told me it would never happen. I believed her. Itās a weird sadness; most of the time I can see clearly that more than try to text her I cannot do much and Iām angry or confused about the situation but it passes, I go by my day. But sometimes this wave of sadness arrives and I remember how she made me laugh, how she looked at me, the day we actually talked like friends for the first time and then it hits me that we might have spoken for the last time. how could that be? I still believe her. One day sheāll call me and my memories of today will fade and get replaced by others of us together.
I should have called her more, told her more times how I loved her, how she was beautiful, we should have gone to more concerts together, we should have said yes to that dude who wanted to interview us for a tiktok. We should have when there still was a we.
One day talking about relationships, I mentioned how incapable I am at letting go and how sometimes I start to resent the person I canāt let go for the things we do to each other. So maybe itās all for the best, maybe Iām being spared, maybe it will save our memories from being tainted, maybe thatās all the time meant for us. I donāt know but I wish I did.
Jan 18, 2025
š§
My boyfriend did not die in 1991. I told a lie and it turned into a fact, forever repeated in my official biography. He died on Christmas Day, 1990, when his family disconnected the mechanical breathing machine. He was a composer in the school of music. We were working on a piece for voice and strings. I liked writing the words under the whole notes, hyphenating them to make them last. I liked sitting on the bed in his apartment, writing on the sheet musicābigger paper, thicker, how it sounded when it fell to the floor when we got tired. It was winter break, friends in town, we hopped from party to party, catching up but separately. It was late, the night was clear, the roads were empty. The four of them were sober, the driver in the other car was not. I was a few miles away, in a bar, waiting. When the bar closed, I left him an angry message for standing me up. A few hours later, a friend called and told me. He suggested I break into the apartment and start removing things before the family arrived. For several minutes I didnāt understand, thenāevidence. He hadnāt told his family and it didnāt seem right to tell them now, to suggest that they didnāt really know him. I drove in the darkness between the accident and dawn. I climbed through the window. I couldnāt figure which things looked suspicious and which things would be missed. I was sloppy, rushed. I grabbed the wrong sheet music. It was a piece that had already been performed. A few days after Christmas there was a memorial. I sat in the back. As part of his speech, his father mentioned the missing music and made an appeal for its return. I couldnāt give it back. On New Yearās Eve, in a black velvet jacket, at a party in the lobby of a downtown hotel, with a drink in each handāone for him, one for meāI kept asking where he was, if anyone had seen him. I had his passport in my back pocket. I shouldnāt have taken that either. It was the only picture of him I could find.
Oct 28, 2024
the other day i went out to an unfinished nuclear plant with some old highschool friends. we cut a hole in the fence and ran to one of the massive, truly massive cooling towers. it was terrifyingly big, like really, seriously, huge. it was my third time there and definitely had not lost any of its effect on me. the four of us stood underneath it for a good forty minutes. looking up through the top to see the last touch of sunset resting on the rim, and later planets. we stood there for long stretches of silence until someone would shift their weight and the crunch of a couple pebbles underfoot would echo so loud and clear we could all hear it.
we sang there in the echo beneath the tower until it was totally dark.
later, in the front seat of my best friendās car as we played american football i cried. i donāt think anyone noticed, i think they were busy with whatever they were thinking about. i cried because of how long i had gone wanting this feeling. that i hadnāt seen these old friends in months and had been struggling to meet anyone i felt could be the kind of people i wanted to really love like i did my friends from highschool.
i want people to love so badly, to go to a sketchy abandoned nuclear plant and watch the sunset and sing together. we forget how long it takes to make friends like that i guess. itās only been one semester, and i shouldnāt let that be me down.
i love you all so much :)
Jan 29, 2025
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The best advice I've found, especially as a perfectionist. As someone who always strives for flawlessness, I've realized this mindset can often hold me back. It's easy to get caught up in making everything just right, but that can lead to never finishing projects or, worse, never starting them. This advice reminds me to focus on completion rather than perfection. It's about making progress and not letting the fear of imperfection paralyze you. You can always refine and improve something once it exists, but you can't improve what you haven't created yet. It's about striking a balance between quality and actually getting things done
Jul 17, 2024
ā¤ļø
My grandpa once told me:
"Live a worthy life. What makes a life worthy is something only you can define for yourself. So, live a life that feels meaningful to you, as long as it does not prevent others from living theirs. Don't let others define what a worthy life means for you. If for you, a worthy life means building a large family, build it; if it means earning a billion dollars, pursue that goal with all your might; if it means making as many memories as you can, go ahead; if it means being religious and praising God, do so. Live your worthy life and ignore anyone who tells you otherwise."
I couldn't find this quote anywhere so I think it was his own wisdom. Rest in Peace grandpaā¤ļø
Jun 8, 2024
