Wine Isn’t Strong Enough. It’s Blood I Want.

Wine isn’t strong enough. It’s blood I want.

Henry Miller; A Literate Passion, the Letters of Anaïs Nin and Henry Miller

More Posts from Rienextdoor and Others

6 years ago

Post 6

i fixed you while i was bleeding too

5 years ago

Reason to Live #3369

  To one day be someone else’s reason. – Guest Submission

(Please don’t add negative comments to these posts.)

2 years ago

I can’t change where I come from or what I’ve been through, so why should I be ashamed of what makes me, me?

Angie Thomas, The Hate U Give (via resqectable)

6 years ago

A Letter I Will Never Send

This is not a love letter.

This is me pouring out my love, not the kind you think of, the mushy gushy romanticized crap you want. No, this is raw, unadulterated affection for you and your soul.

For the purposes of this letter, I am going to disregard the fact that you are ignoring me and that we do not talk anymore. That is irrelevant. We have both argued, screamed, apologized, and cried to each other too many times to count. Even if we did still talk, I would be saying this to you, maybe in different words, but telling you all the same.

Since the very first day we became friends, you have been a constant in my life, a constant amidst the tumult and drama of high school. You listened to me and offered advice with your perspective that is so opposite mine. I love the way you live in the moment and risk the superficial things that I hold dear. Being your friend made me come to the profound realization that life is so much more than turning in homework on time and getting straight As. Because of you, if a friend needs me the night before a paper is due, I will be there for my friend (hopefully I wrote the paper ahead of time).

You were the glue that held my life together when I was on the brink of destruction. Everything in my world was falling apart, but you and your friendship remained. I took that for granted. You taught me the value of true friendship, even if it does not last. I hope that I meant something to you, that I somehow repaid in part what you had given to me in full.

To this day, I still look for you in the hallways and listen for your voice among the tenors in choir. Even when we see each other or talk, it is all superficial. We barely graze the surface of what once existed.

I hate superficiality.

After three years, how could we, how could I, throw it all away?

Losing your friendship has been a process more painful than any breakup. It feels as if someone has taken a part of me; there is a hole in my soul where you once were. As if the physical pain was not enough, the process of emotional detachment from you has been long and rocky. After weeks without thinking of you, a single song or a memory or a Bible verse makes me recall how much I care for you, still, after all this time.

You know more about me than any other person on this earth. And even though you leave me behind, you will carry pieces of me with you forever. Treasure them. I do not regret giving them to you, for I trust you will keep those pieces of me safe.

Life is too short to be silent about the ones we love. The other day, I was thinking about the people I will miss most in college, and as much as I love my friends, I will miss you the most. I already miss you. I suppose our separation is merely a preparation for what is to come.

This is not a cry for you to come back to me, nor an invitation for a pity party on my behalf. We both know that “us” would never have worked in our favor. I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me, and how much pain I am enduring as you ignore my snapchats and avoid eye contact. But still, this is not me trying to guilt you or regain your attention.

This is me telling you that I love you. Not as a boyfriend or as a lover or even as a friend. I love you as a person. You are so extraordinarily special, and I am blessed to have spent so much time with you as my best friend. I wish it did not have to end.

But alas, all good things come to an end, right?

4 years ago

i agree that happiness is a choice but i have also realized that not everyone has happiness in their options


Tags
6 years ago

i want to live in a world where it’s relatable to be happy and loved instead of sad and broken.

shelby leigh (via nothingwithoutwords)

4 years ago

give me the old-school love. write me letters. leave me random notes. kiss my hands. slow dance with me. write a poem. lie down with me on the grass. read to me.

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one with the stars ✨formula 1, nhl, writing, psychology 🤓

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