Sometimes we do write letters supposed to change something. Or everything. Sometimes we write letters with the silent hope they will change nothing.
Sometimes I feel like I am too honest to be on the safe side. I say things in advance instead of keeping my mouth shut. Sometimes I force people to do their own decisions based on my honesty, despite I am afraid of these decisions.
My dear, I was thinking a lot about you tonight,
About me being provocative and you being vulnerable. About me being emotional and you trying to be rational. Me – too open and you – drawing your own conclusions.
About present, past, words and their meanings, fear of changes and our preferred type of sexual relationships.
About us, both reading each other as a book, both missing each other and unread pages.
About us being in the relationship, that has no definition or title yet.
You are the person I like to be with: talk, be silent, correspond, kiss, smile, play word games. It’s great to be with you, just to be.
I know , being f***ing honest with each other is far more great than just f***ing…. But if I had kept my mouth shut I would have been much happier today …
British humour is awesome, when spotted in unexpected locations as Regent’s Park is brilliant! Ladies toilet. And a rose named Golden Showers.
I am single not because nobody wants me. There is a waiting list, but unfortunately I can’t control who is on this list. I don’t care, if they wait.
I am tired not because I never rest. There is a to do list, but unfortunately I am not able to put myself first.
I fail permanently to be top priority for myself. Being single and unemployed makes me less organized.
I need to merge two lists together. I want to be taken and prioritized.
While writing these lines I fell asleep few times. Only stupid people can take 5 AM trains.
Crying definitely is not my hobby. Last week’s emotional break down was caused by facing self destruction of people I care about a lot, ones who were part of my adult life, and lot of things were mixed in this sad story: drugs, alcohol, war mission, paternal responsibility and lack of it, guilt and rejecting the helping hand. I still don’t want to talk about that, still feel it’s a bit my fault…
Alcohol is only for taste and smell for me, I can do silly things with a sober mind and I don’t care – glass of wine or glass of water. I just like to avoid deleting tomorrow from my diary because of today’s fun. And as far as I remember never wanted to flush down bad emotions with wine, always wanted to go through them with a clear mind.
I still smoke. I quit of one day without any thinking in advance and stayed away for a year. And then started again when Dad has extreme health problems. I hope I can go cold turkey anytime again.
But not drugs, never tried, so will wait till there are any medical indications:). I was born in a small town in the south and during gloomy Soviet times we knew all drugs-addicts (using hard stuff) in our school, we knew too much, as I recall now. Never understood though, Young people got no treatment, everyone around was about to close their eyes and pass by without noticing, adults were not aware what it was, youngsters were curious. “There is no sex in USSR” as one woman told during TV show back then, there were no drugs either… So I lost few my schoolmates before I graduated my uni….
If nobody presses against you in underground, it doesn’t mean that the is no underground at all… (complicated sentence, but you are smart readers).
Update. Smoking pot first time at my age was not funny at all. Everything should be tried and tested at the right age…Or maybe too late is even better – you have no time to develop addiction?
It was the night worth repeating…
– It was so long since there were three of us in the bed – you, me and Jesus, -I said smiling. And kissed my man. I don’t know where Jesus was that particular moment – maybe looking from above…
Hi baby. Let’s start again – I was hit by this one line message yesterday after 2 months of unexpected silence.
No way! – it was me, who shot the quick answer.
I’m still not sure if the answer was necessary.
Happy woman never send messages to her ex.
But maybe happy men do. Just to escape from happy routine?
When woman needs attention, she should buy a red dress.
It fixes everything. In the most fortunate cases – forever.
Tried. Tested. Approved.