🌻
Lady,
Something hit me when I saw you for the first time. You were vibrant, sparkling, full of life. Wearing a bright t-shirt with a pez dispenser on it. We chatted, I said I liked your shirt. There was a lot I liked about you in that moment, though I only mentioned the shirt.
A friendship formed. I wondered if maybe it was going to be more than that—something in your marrow spoke to my marrow—but I also knew you were out of my league, so I didn't dare hope it and didn't dare pursue it.
And somehow I stumbled into a relationship with someone else. We weren't a great fit for each other, but once it started I felt obligated to keep on with it.
One day you and I went for a walk and you told me you thought something had been stirring between us and now you were confused because I was dating this other girl. I didn't know what to say. By then it seemed too late. The wheels were already in motion in the other direction. We said good-bye and parted ways—school ended for the year and I transferred out.
Later that year I encountered you again: but this time in a dream. We hadn't seen each other for months. Things were going okay with the someone else: actually, I was barely surviving it. But in my loneliness I stuck with her. I wasn't myself enough to be able to end the relationship. I didn't know how to reclaim me and just kept going through the motions.
But then you came to me that one night as I slept.
In my dream I was in my childhood hometown, walking down the street. I saw you and you were with a man. You introduced us: "This is my husband," you said about him.
When you said that, I broke down on the spot. Literally, crumpled onto the street.
And the pain in the dream sliced so hard into the real world that I woke up crying. Twenty-two years old, alone in the dark, tears streaming down my my face. My heart breaking. Sobbing.
Before that, I'd hidden the thought of you. Tried not to think about you: to do so was just too dangerous.
But that dream planted you back in my heart.
You've been there ever since.
Mar 17, 2025
Related Recs
🫀
there's no standard treatment for a broken heart. i sigh quietly to myself, thinking i’ll actually find an answer on how to heal a broken heart on google
it all began five years ago, when i finally started spending time with him—the boy who seemed to shine a little brighter than the rest. he was the kindest, the prettiest, the one who made my heart feel lighter just by existing. and he wanted to be my friend. how could i not fall?
kept the friendship up for a couple of years and my crush for him grew even stronger. sometimes he would come up in my dreams and then i would try to summon fate itself—manifesting, wishing, aching for him to love me back. because, as every girl knows, there is always a phase where we believe the universe listens. and so, i rinsed and repeated, hoping one day, he would look at me the way I looked at him
when we messaged or meet up, he felt like my twin flame. a connection so deep, so natural, that i convinced myself he must feel it too. he understood me, and i understood him
but i never felt that he liked me as much as i liked him.
and then, it ended—not with a dramatic farewell, not with a grand confession, but with silence. I ruined it in my own quiet way: fading out, withdrawing, blocking him, letting the messages go unanswered. I stopped reaching out, and so did he. it was as if we had been a story left unfinished, pages ripped from the book before the final chapter could be written
it has been four months since we last spoke. and now, he has a girlfriend. may I add—throughout our years of friendship, he never had one. situationships, yes, but never something real. yet, here she is. not me.
the day I found out, it struck me in a way I hadn’t expected. I had let him slip from my thoughts, let weeks pass without missing him—until I saw what I had once longed for, in the hands of someone else. I hadn’t realized I was still holding onto the dream until it shattered before me.
now, my mind drifts to what could have been. I picture myself in her place, feel the ghost of a life that was never mine. would he have loved me, if I had held on? if I had tried? was I ever good enough for him? wasn’t I pretty enough for him…? why… her… not… me…?
time is meant to heal. i know this. but this wound runs deep. losing someone you once felt connected to in the deepest corners of your soul is a quiet kind of grief, the kind that doesn’t announce itself loudly but lingers in the spaces between thoughts. my heart feels heavy, my soul even heavier
but today, i miss him more than usually. i’ve fallen to deep, so now every time i think of him, i will miss him deeply.
Feb 28, 2025
Are they the tingling feelings that you look back at or the fragments of memories that you struggle to picture in your head? Do you ever miss a person that you don’t even know? Perhaps it is an idea, a concept or a thought.
You are trying to create the perfect person that will understand you, tame you and love you just like how you would. You do not seek for reciprocated love - you always feel like you want to give more and love more. It is your way of loving and who is to complain?
However, a part of you aches knowing that someday when the time comes and you lay down onto a field taking your final breaths, you probably would have wanted someone to just whisper on how much they adore you, just like how ‘night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you.’’.
Gentleness but also full with affection.
Somebody who can withstand you during your energetic moments and your burnt out times. Someone who will stay next to you no wonder what; someone who is not afraid to present their emotions for you and only you.
Someone who will try everything just to love you, get back to you no matter what.
And I promise, from the deepest roots of my heart, that I will dearly love them where every moment would feel like the first time - the rushed heartbeats, flowing hormones, aching hearts and locked eyes. We will love the way that we do - and it may be similar to others - but in the end, we know that what we have is different and special for ourselves.
Beethoven’s ‘Fur Elise’. The strong faith in love that was driven between Schumann, Brahms and Clara.
Like how one composes songs dedicated for another and one paints in shades of pastels reminiscing of their significant other. Like the love letters written in ink that took quite a while to pick out at the store, wrapped in delicate enveloped covered with kiss marks. Like the singing and humming dedicated for the ears of the other.
It is what you want, and therefore you wait - for who knows how long, expecting that person, who will achieve accomplishment throughout a journey together with you.
———————
Hello! This is my first entry hereeee:)
The picture was carefully brought here from pinterest and was in my album, I do not know any individual in the photo but they gave me great inspiration on writing this piece. The photo really speaks warmth and radiates energy IMO - so romantic!
Jan 28, 2025
🚪
In my closet, I discovered a hidden door that led to a new room—I guess the door was in plain sight all along; I could just never bring myself to look and see what was behind it.
The first time I opened the door, the room was filled with men’s clothing and belongings that had been abandoned; I got the sense that they had been there a long time, but they just as easily could have last been touched yesterday. He told me to leave everything alone in the room, not to touch anything; that it wasn’t mine to take. I looked around, lingering for a long moment—everything somehow looked familiar. I closed the door shut. I wondered how anyone could have left so many beautiful things behind.
Secretly, I returned again to the room when I had some time alone and found it filled with women’s things now: little treasures and mementos and knick-knacks (he hates my knick-knacks because they are so frivolous and take up space and needlessly create clutter, he says in waking life, ever cold and rational) of a life well-lived; fabulous stylish accoutrements that would perfectly elevate an outfit; glamorous gowns that seemed like they would fit me and hug my curves just right.
In the corner, I found a wedding dress made of delicate shimmering off-white silk and organza, flowers hand-embroidered onto it with care. I ran my hands over it. It took my breath away.
I woke up with the song I had been listening to last night playing in my head.
Mar 1, 2025
Top Recs from @mattshawsome
🛑
this is worthy of celebration: the lack of video—autoplay video, noisy inane video, panicky video, algorithmic, dumb video, rabbit hole video, any video—on pi.fyi is a good thing
Oct 5, 2024
🥾
this is going to hurt — A LOT — but it's getting to the point where there's no other option
Mar 11, 2025