Dead Letter Thirty by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Thirty
Dear uninterested party,
So...You'll never know, and I'll never tell you, but I fancied myself almost in love with you. Almost. I was on the precipice. I was told that when you walked by or said a word to me, I lit up. My heart fluttered when we spoke. I could see myself being in love with you, you're my type, you're most of what I think I want. My friends thought we would have been cute.
That's nice, I guess. But you'll never know that. You'll never read the letter. And I will never tell you how I felt. I'm not brave enough for that. Not sure enough of myself to be sure of anything about you. But I did fancy you. And I suppose I still do
Dead Letter Twenty Nine by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Nine
Dear Best Friend,
You make me want to die sometimes.
I can't bear that I hurt you so much, that I dared betray my worries and make them yours. Yeah, I was scared, but goddammit why couldn't I be brave? For once? I get lost in what could have been, what was, and why I knew I was fooling myself. I love you. But I don't love you like I should for what we had to work. I love you like you're my sunshine, but I've had a soft spot for clouds. I love you like you're my best friend, and it's true, you're the best I ever had. I love you like a sister, and I feel that we made that sort of perverse. I didn't want what we had. I miss what we had. I
Dead Letter Twenty Eight by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Eight
Dear...Someone,
Sometimes, I don't know what I want, or what I feel about it, or what good I'm even for. Sometimes I sit down and wonder what makes me tick, because I certainly can't feel it. And then sometimes, someone tells me all these things I'm good at, all these things they see me feel, and I wonder if I just don't pay attention to myself at all. And wonder how they could. But I'm grateful they do. Because most of the time, I'm just being an idiot, and I need someone to tell me that before I go and be more of one.
Love,
Dead Letter Twenty Seven by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Seven
Dear Bunny,
I despise with every fiber of my being telling you the truth. Why should I be honest when you live a lie within your own mind? You're worthless, pathetic, weak, idiotic, cruel, petty, jealous, terrible.
And it's all because you make yourself that way. What kind of life is that? Why the negative placebo on your own life? I certainly don't make you this way, I've treated you like a delicate princess for as long as I can remember being your friend. Is it that hard to be happy?
I'm not always happy, but I'm not like you, either. You are a constant swing from delight to boredom to the ever-dramatic self hatred. You hate me s
More or less, I'm alone
More or less, I'm here at home
More or less you're gone away
And all I can whisper is stay, stay.
More or less, my loneliness grows
More or less, I thought you'd know
More or less, I wish it such
But it seems I think too much,much?
More or less, it's cold with fear
More or less, you're welcome here
More or less, you don't see
And all I can muster is please,please.
More and more and less and less
I'm taken over by this unrest
Of missing you and being glad alone
With imaginary sins yet to atone.
Talk to me, leave me alone.
Please come here, please go home.
I am a runner.
Not a runner in the physical sense. I've never been very athletic. My lungs are too weak, and I'm allergic to nature. Though I try, I can't manage to run for very long in this sense.
I am a runner in the sense of running from everything.
I am in love, I run from it, it catches me, I run again.
I run from what I believe in. I will let you tell me what I feel is a lie, because I won't survive disappointing you.
I am a runner from my emotions. I am quick to let other people be happy before myself.
I am a runner from the truth. I'm worth so much more than I think I am.
I am a runner from my past. I am lonely and friendl
Dead Letter Twenty Six by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Six
Dear Best Friend,
It makes me sick to my stomach, when I read your recent letter. And you won't answer me, which makes it worse. I call you terrible... And I can't forgive myself for saying it, because I don't mean it, I never do. I'm cynical, sarcastic, and never mean to hurt you, but sometimes the way you phrase things is just like you don't care. It's just the phrasing, the offhanded way, makes it seem like it's just there to make me feel better. So I think I don't matter, in the scheme of things. And I answer, sure, sure you do. When quietly, I'm saying, I love you. I do. Please, never forget that I love you and hate myself for possibl
Dead Letter Twenty Five by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Five
Dear best friend,
I'm so, so happy that you're happy and dating him and that you don't have a creep for once.
Even if I'm not as important anymore. Even if you have so many people you talk to that I'm too mellow and boring to talk to anymore. I'm not going to say a word, I'm not going to complain. I want you happy. It's alright if I'm not who you talk to as much. If I'm just that one who says good morning and then doesn't really hear much more from you for the rest of the day. As long as you're happy, and as long as I can know it, I'm alright with it all.
Maybe I shouldn't be so sad about it. Maybe this letter is just me being a terri
Dead Letter Twenty Three by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Three
Dear People I care about,
Why am I so awful? Why can't I just keep my big mouth shut? I'm so, so sorry... Sometimes, it'd be best if I just left you alone, wouldn't it... I could do that for you, if you wanted. I've done it before. It wouldn't be the first time, nor the last, that I closed off. It's not meant to be offensive to you. It's just my way of trying...trying to help when I'm part of the problem.
Yours Defeated,
Dead Letter Darling
Dead Letter Thirty by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Thirty
Dear uninterested party,
So...You'll never know, and I'll never tell you, but I fancied myself almost in love with you. Almost. I was on the precipice. I was told that when you walked by or said a word to me, I lit up. My heart fluttered when we spoke. I could see myself being in love with you, you're my type, you're most of what I think I want. My friends thought we would have been cute.
That's nice, I guess. But you'll never know that. You'll never read the letter. And I will never tell you how I felt. I'm not brave enough for that. Not sure enough of myself to be sure of anything about you. But I did fancy you. And I suppose I still do
Dead Letter Twenty Nine by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Nine
Dear Best Friend,
You make me want to die sometimes.
I can't bear that I hurt you so much, that I dared betray my worries and make them yours. Yeah, I was scared, but goddammit why couldn't I be brave? For once? I get lost in what could have been, what was, and why I knew I was fooling myself. I love you. But I don't love you like I should for what we had to work. I love you like you're my sunshine, but I've had a soft spot for clouds. I love you like you're my best friend, and it's true, you're the best I ever had. I love you like a sister, and I feel that we made that sort of perverse. I didn't want what we had. I miss what we had. I
Dead Letter Twenty Eight by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Eight
Dear...Someone,
Sometimes, I don't know what I want, or what I feel about it, or what good I'm even for. Sometimes I sit down and wonder what makes me tick, because I certainly can't feel it. And then sometimes, someone tells me all these things I'm good at, all these things they see me feel, and I wonder if I just don't pay attention to myself at all. And wonder how they could. But I'm grateful they do. Because most of the time, I'm just being an idiot, and I need someone to tell me that before I go and be more of one.
Love,
Dead Letter Twenty Seven by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Seven
Dear Bunny,
I despise with every fiber of my being telling you the truth. Why should I be honest when you live a lie within your own mind? You're worthless, pathetic, weak, idiotic, cruel, petty, jealous, terrible.
And it's all because you make yourself that way. What kind of life is that? Why the negative placebo on your own life? I certainly don't make you this way, I've treated you like a delicate princess for as long as I can remember being your friend. Is it that hard to be happy?
I'm not always happy, but I'm not like you, either. You are a constant swing from delight to boredom to the ever-dramatic self hatred. You hate me s
More or less, I'm alone
More or less, I'm here at home
More or less you're gone away
And all I can whisper is stay, stay.
More or less, my loneliness grows
More or less, I thought you'd know
More or less, I wish it such
But it seems I think too much,much?
More or less, it's cold with fear
More or less, you're welcome here
More or less, you don't see
And all I can muster is please,please.
More and more and less and less
I'm taken over by this unrest
Of missing you and being glad alone
With imaginary sins yet to atone.
Talk to me, leave me alone.
Please come here, please go home.
I am a runner.
Not a runner in the physical sense. I've never been very athletic. My lungs are too weak, and I'm allergic to nature. Though I try, I can't manage to run for very long in this sense.
I am a runner in the sense of running from everything.
I am in love, I run from it, it catches me, I run again.
I run from what I believe in. I will let you tell me what I feel is a lie, because I won't survive disappointing you.
I am a runner from my emotions. I am quick to let other people be happy before myself.
I am a runner from the truth. I'm worth so much more than I think I am.
I am a runner from my past. I am lonely and friendl
Dead Letter Twenty Six by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Six
Dear Best Friend,
It makes me sick to my stomach, when I read your recent letter. And you won't answer me, which makes it worse. I call you terrible... And I can't forgive myself for saying it, because I don't mean it, I never do. I'm cynical, sarcastic, and never mean to hurt you, but sometimes the way you phrase things is just like you don't care. It's just the phrasing, the offhanded way, makes it seem like it's just there to make me feel better. So I think I don't matter, in the scheme of things. And I answer, sure, sure you do. When quietly, I'm saying, I love you. I do. Please, never forget that I love you and hate myself for possibl
Dead Letter Twenty Five by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Five
Dear best friend,
I'm so, so happy that you're happy and dating him and that you don't have a creep for once.
Even if I'm not as important anymore. Even if you have so many people you talk to that I'm too mellow and boring to talk to anymore. I'm not going to say a word, I'm not going to complain. I want you happy. It's alright if I'm not who you talk to as much. If I'm just that one who says good morning and then doesn't really hear much more from you for the rest of the day. As long as you're happy, and as long as I can know it, I'm alright with it all.
Maybe I shouldn't be so sad about it. Maybe this letter is just me being a terri
Dead Letter Twenty Three by DeadLetterDarling, literature
Literature
Dead Letter Twenty Three
Dear People I care about,
Why am I so awful? Why can't I just keep my big mouth shut? I'm so, so sorry... Sometimes, it'd be best if I just left you alone, wouldn't it... I could do that for you, if you wanted. I've done it before. It wouldn't be the first time, nor the last, that I closed off. It's not meant to be offensive to you. It's just my way of trying...trying to help when I'm part of the problem.
Yours Defeated,
Dead Letter Darling
I'm a secret Deviant. I have another account on here, for all my friends, but this is more like me. I tend to bottle things up inside until they burst, and these letters are just when I'm lucky enough to be able to simply write them out instead of sobbing them out at someone. I don't want people to really know these things I write, but I want to feel better about the issues I write about. And letting people see them helps me do that.
Current Residence: 590 Rivercove Ct Favourite genre of music: Classical done unclassically Favourite style of art: Anything the artist feels like doing MP3 player of choice: IPod Skin of choice: my own, hopefully Personal Quote: Maybe
I don't need this anymore. It was more trouble than it was worth, after a while. I'll probably still check it, but I no longer feel the need to use it as a lifeline. I'm going to grow up now.
And should I ever return... Well, it happens.
"Dead letter mail or undeliverable mail is mail that cannot be delivered to the addressee or returned to the sender."
"-saves a message to a file named dead.letter if the user cancels the message before sending it."
Is that all a dead letter is? I doubt it. A dead letter is cold feet on your wedding night. A dead letter is that thought you don't want anyone to hear. A dead letter is all the things you bottle up inside.... typed up, scrawled out, and deleted. But it's still there. And it needs to be heard, doesn't it?
I want it to be heard.
These Dead Letters are my own, my life's little disappointments and struggles and anger, no longer