It is so beautiful when two people love each other, cause they are smiling and they are happy!
And it is cute when boy or girl gives The Love Letter to their favorite!
Here are some letters which I like to read...
Dear B,
We haven't spoken in 2 months - maybe the longest we have gone since we first met each other 5 years ago. I always want to call you, to email you, to message you, but I often restrain myself. You are better off - in your new life on the other side of the world - and I am better off in mine. We don't need each other anymore. We weren't good friends to each other, we weren't good lovers to each other. We are better off apart.
Or, at least, that's what I keep telling myself. And, to be honest, I am sick of it. I am in love with you. Head over heels in love. You are the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night and the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning. And while I'm sleeping? You're there too - in my dreams. I am petrified of telling you because I know there is no way that we can ever be together. You're gone - stuck in Europe - for the next two years.
I shouldn't love you. I should hate you. After all that you have done to me. Lied to me. Cheated on me. Betrayed me. You were never Prince Charming. Never honest. You were the typical asshole. But, the first time you were honest with you, the time you told me that you had slept with someone else, was the time I realized I was in love with you. That was almost two years ago. I am sick and tired of keeping this secret. I am scared to tell this secret.
So, B, I write you this anonymous letter in hopes that I don't have to tell you that I love you, but in hopes that you will feel it. I hope that one day - despite all that we have been through - that I become as honest with you as you were with me.
Love,
C
We haven't spoken in 2 months - maybe the longest we have gone since we first met each other 5 years ago. I always want to call you, to email you, to message you, but I often restrain myself. You are better off - in your new life on the other side of the world - and I am better off in mine. We don't need each other anymore. We weren't good friends to each other, we weren't good lovers to each other. We are better off apart.
Or, at least, that's what I keep telling myself. And, to be honest, I am sick of it. I am in love with you. Head over heels in love. You are the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night and the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning. And while I'm sleeping? You're there too - in my dreams. I am petrified of telling you because I know there is no way that we can ever be together. You're gone - stuck in Europe - for the next two years.
I shouldn't love you. I should hate you. After all that you have done to me. Lied to me. Cheated on me. Betrayed me. You were never Prince Charming. Never honest. You were the typical asshole. But, the first time you were honest with you, the time you told me that you had slept with someone else, was the time I realized I was in love with you. That was almost two years ago. I am sick and tired of keeping this secret. I am scared to tell this secret.
So, B, I write you this anonymous letter in hopes that I don't have to tell you that I love you, but in hopes that you will feel it. I hope that one day - despite all that we have been through - that I become as honest with you as you were with me.
Love,
C
I'm only young. But in my short life I've seen love, love lost and found, love shallow and true. This blog is beautiful, it helps me feel when I was numb before. I don't think you'll publish this, but I trust you to understand, and I need understanding. Here goes.
I don't know why I always do this. There must be a genetic quirk in my brain or something, because I genuinely can't help myself. He is beautiful. He is smart. He is gentle and sweet and sexy and moody and as close to perfection as I can stand. Close as I can imagine. We've never kissed, never touched even. But I am his. For sure, I am his. Whether he wants me or not. There is no doubt about that. I think he wants me too. I think he's close to wanting me, close to doing something about the way we are.
But this weekend. I made my mistake. The same one I always make. To be brutally honest and not in an arrogant way, I've always been the sort of girl with quite a few guys around me, but until this weekend I've managed to keep away from them. Managed to rebuff their advances gently and sweetly while never losing the dreamy expression that the one I belong to gives me. I woke up this weekend. I woke up when I fell asleep in his arms. It wasn't the right him.
I was at this person's house. I drank wine with his mother, and mine. Then they went to bed, he slid a movie into the machine. His house is a beautiful farmhouse in the country; cold and big. We were in the smallest room on a couch with a blanket and a coal fire in the corner. I don't know that I need to be explicit here; one thing led to another. He cradled me in his strong arms, he kissed me with his lips and tongue and teeth, I felt his heart pounding through the thin cotton of my shirt. He was lovely. It was amazing. But he wasn't the right him.
And now I don't know what to do. My guilt is crushing me- not that I really did anything all that wrong. He's not mine, I'm not his. Not officially. But if that's true, why do I feel so sick? This is my confession. I wish I hadn't needed something like this to make me realise how much I love him. Because now I don't deserve him.
I needed to tell someone.
I feel embarrassed, and stupid, both the user and the used, full of self-loathing. This is my confession.
I love you, Christopher, with every shattered piece of my wasted heart. I'm sorry for everything.
I don't know why I always do this. There must be a genetic quirk in my brain or something, because I genuinely can't help myself. He is beautiful. He is smart. He is gentle and sweet and sexy and moody and as close to perfection as I can stand. Close as I can imagine. We've never kissed, never touched even. But I am his. For sure, I am his. Whether he wants me or not. There is no doubt about that. I think he wants me too. I think he's close to wanting me, close to doing something about the way we are.
But this weekend. I made my mistake. The same one I always make. To be brutally honest and not in an arrogant way, I've always been the sort of girl with quite a few guys around me, but until this weekend I've managed to keep away from them. Managed to rebuff their advances gently and sweetly while never losing the dreamy expression that the one I belong to gives me. I woke up this weekend. I woke up when I fell asleep in his arms. It wasn't the right him.
I was at this person's house. I drank wine with his mother, and mine. Then they went to bed, he slid a movie into the machine. His house is a beautiful farmhouse in the country; cold and big. We were in the smallest room on a couch with a blanket and a coal fire in the corner. I don't know that I need to be explicit here; one thing led to another. He cradled me in his strong arms, he kissed me with his lips and tongue and teeth, I felt his heart pounding through the thin cotton of my shirt. He was lovely. It was amazing. But he wasn't the right him.
And now I don't know what to do. My guilt is crushing me- not that I really did anything all that wrong. He's not mine, I'm not his. Not officially. But if that's true, why do I feel so sick? This is my confession. I wish I hadn't needed something like this to make me realise how much I love him. Because now I don't deserve him.
I needed to tell someone.
I feel embarrassed, and stupid, both the user and the used, full of self-loathing. This is my confession.
I love you, Christopher, with every shattered piece of my wasted heart. I'm sorry for everything.
I moved away for school right before our two year anniversary. It's hard to miss you every day and when we're on the phone it's just a reminder that we can't get close enough but every time I go home or you visit me I love to feel overwhelmed by your presence and just soak in every moment until the one where we must say good bye. I know we are bigger than this and though it is tough at times, we will figure it out and until we can live together someday I hope we continue to enjoy every aspect of each other in any way we can. Keep sending me pictures of your lunch and I will keep sending you photos of our dog. I can't wait to hold you tight and kiss you with all of my built-up affection. Thank you for trusting me and thank you for being trustworthy. I couldn't see myself missing anyone else the way I miss you. You are so deeply loved.
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