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Dear ____,
I think I'm giving up on you.
You keep me walking on eggshells. You keep me walking on tiptoes. Frankly, I'm tired. So very tired. And I know you tire out others too. I just don't know why they haven't called you out on your abrasiveness. But I can't take it anymore.
I think I'm giving up on you. This means no more small talk. No more hypocrisy. I'll call a spade a spade. I'll take back what's mine, what's rightfully mine.
The world doesn't revolve around you no matter how largely you think of yourself. I refuse to feed your ego. I refuse to give more of myself to you. Because frankly, very frankly, I'm very, very tired of being with you.
Cutting ties,
______
*****
Who would you address this letter too? What's your "giving up on you" story?
Image by: Timothy Hamilton (link)
I think I'm homeless.
I have no roots.
The room I stay in is under my parents' roof. While I love my family, it doesn't feel like HOME.
Home to me is my own kitchen. Home is walking around in your underwear without worrying that others will think you're mad. Home is talking as loud as I want. Home is not having to walk on eggshells around others.
Home is comfort. Home is your own comfort cove.
Soon I'll have my own home. There'll be a kickass kitchen, with my own oven where I can bake pies all day. I can walk around in Hello Kitty panties and nobody would think I'm childish. Home is me singing at the top of my head without anyone shushing me. Home is not having to worry about anybody else but myself.
I want to go home.
I want to go home so bad.
Help me find my way home please. I don't want to be homeless anymore.
*****
Where is home for you?
Image by: favio.leone
She packed her bags to fly to L.A., hoping to rekindle what they had. He didn't know she was coming. It had been three years since the breakup, but their recent online flirtations gave her hope. He still wanted her, she believed.
The cab took her to the address he had shared in an email. Love isn't easy, she reminded herself as she walked towards the front door.
"What the hell are you doing here?," he asked, walking fiercely onto the street. She turned and saw him, but not with the welcome she had anticipated.
She stood by the cab door, speechless. Trailing behind him was a little boy and a woman who looked her age. It didn't take much time to figure out who they were.
And that she'd been deceived. Again.
"Wrong address," she blurted out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you folks. Bye bye!" She laughed nervously and stuffed her bags back into the trunk.
He stared at her, then shook his head. He motioned the woman and the child to go back into the house.
"I thought there was something," she told him, before getting into the cab. "I thought there was something again."
He avoided her gaze then shook his head again. "I only asked you once, more than three years ago. I never asked you a second time."
That was right. She had come here on her own volition. But she would have said yes again anyway had he asked again. But he never did.
The cab took off, back to the airport. Her bags remained still in the cab's dark trunk. She looked out the window, counting palm trees.
It's stupid, she thought. But if he did ask her again, she would say yes. She would always say yes.
*****
What's your story of unrequited love? Who would you say YES to again?
Image by: that blonde girl
Things are happening and I'm riding along. They need me here, I'm here. They need me there, I'm there. They need this now, I deliver.
I run and walk and fly and drive and go around but not in circles. I know where I'm going and I'm determined to get there
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Speak into a mic and hear your voice out loud.
I know I want a microphone. I know I want my own when we're at the karaoke bar
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Classic and elegant, why not opt for a Dessert and Champagne wedding instead of giving your guests a smorgasbord of food? It gives off a simple and relaxed vibe. Can you already hear the jazz music playing in the background?
Image by Eole
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Red shoes make me feel sexy. Especially when they're stilettos. But since I have fat feet, I can only wear them at the store. I can't wear them regularly so I just try them on. Borrowed sexiness. That's kinda sad. Red shoes give me borrowed sexiness.
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