Thought Catalog


Here I Am, Still Thinking About You

Posted: 02 Nov 2016 08:00 PM PDT

averie woodard
averie woodard

I told myself to stop thinking about you because you never think about me. But I really can't.

Thinking about you makes me want to talk to you and beg for you to come back.

I reminded myself that if you wanted to talk to me, you would hit me up with a text. I never got that text but here I am thinking about you like crazy.

You wanted me gone. There's no doubt you love your life right now without me. But here I am can't stop thinking about you.

Life is unfair. I can't seem to find a light to move on and forget about you because I'm just waiting for nothing. But I like waiting for you; waiting for the text I will never get and waiting for you to think about me and eventually miss me. It will never happen though.

Thinking about you gives me this painful yet exhilarating feeling. I can never tell you that because you wouldn't care anyway.

I would waste my time, beg for your attention and chase you. But that's not a womanly thing to do. So I'll just sit back, relax and wait. I will never stop thinking about you still.

There was not at all a time you didn't cross my mind. Because you live in my heart and you'll always be there. I have so many unsaid feelings left, although they're better left unsaid. You wouldn't care anyway. I am thinking about you again. I can never stop.

Every morning when I wake up, you cross my mind. You spend the whole day there until I start to fall asleep late at night. I can never promise you that I will stop thinking about. Because you will live forever in my mind.

I am here thinking about you like crazy and waiting for you. please be here. TC mark

We Won’t Always End Up With Our Soulmates (And Maybe That’s A Good Thing)

Posted: 02 Nov 2016 07:00 PM PDT

natik
natik

I started to believe in soulmates when I met him. You know, him. The one who changed it all for me. The one who came into my life and who shifted it. My ‘one’.

I never used to want to believe in soulmates. I saw marriages and relationships fall apart and crumble without warning. I saw couples I thought would last forever, end abruptly. I remember thinking to myself, love is supposed to be stronger than this. I remember thinking that if I ever had a great love, that I would never let it go and I would never let it fade.

As it turns out, love isn’t ever going to be enough. At least not in the right circumstances.

I thought that if I ever met my soulmate, then that would be it. He was going to be my forever. My one and only. My person. But we were young and in college. He moved far away and I was too attached to him to live my own life apart from his.

Our love didn’t change. But our lives did. Our individual lives shifted. And we had to let one another go.

To this day, I still believe we were connected in ways I can’t explain. We were best friends, and each other’s first loves. We were absolutely everything to one another. Sometimes, it’s still so hard to grasp onto the fact that we didn’t make it. Sometimes, it still makes zero sense to me.

Because if we were truly soulmates, we’d make it, right?

But somehow, I don’t think that’s the case.

I still think that he was my soulmate, or at least one of them. And I’d like to think that even though we ended, it didn’t mean that our love wasn’t strong enough. It didn’t mean that our love wasn’t beautiful. It just meant that our time was over. And that wasn’t anyones fault. It’s just what happened.

If you ever get the chance to find a soulmate out there somewhere, treasure it. Treasure them. Love them and let them love you back. But don’t let yourself grow bitter if it ends. Don’t let yourself give up on bigger loves or better loves.

Not everyone is going to be your forever person. Not everyone is going to stay. Some people are going to have to leave. Even soulmates. And it doesn’t mean that love wasn’t real. It doesn’t mean that love wasn’t exhilarating. It doesn’t mean that love wasn’t true.

Be grateful you have truly loved.

Be happy you know what big and beautiful love feels like. And be deeply thankful that you got to experience the kind of love only a handful of people get to be apart of.

Think back on the memories and smile from the warmth it brings you. Look back on him with a smile written on your face and know that even though your relationship broke, you aren’t going to crumble with his wreckage. And know that even though you two ended, you will make sure you will come out stronger in the end.

We won’t always end up with our true loves. We won’t always end up with our soulmates. And maybe those big relationships are just lessons for ourselves. To learn how to love someone with your whole heart. And then to be able to have the courage to pick up the pieces by yourself after it’s over. Maybe soulmates are here to teach us, that we are ok on our own. And that we can be stronger, without them by our side. TC mark

We Broke Up June 27 (But That Wasn’t When I Lost You)

Posted: 02 Nov 2016 06:00 PM PDT

Thought.is
Thought.is

We broke up on June 27. Kissed each other goodbye outside in the sunshine on the wide stone steps, and everything felt okay. In that moment, numb, existing slowly and muted together under dark water the way we had been, we could never have predicted the years of heavy, rampant heartbreak that would follow.

But looking back, I think we should have known. Because we didn't break up that day, really.

The truth is we broke up two months earlier, in my bed, at 3:00 am.

You weren't holding me. I can't remember when you stopped holding me as we slept, but I know that on that night you weren't. You weren't even close to me, and I was nauseatingly aware of it. I couldn't breathe under the sheets so I laid on top. Curled up, sick to my stomach, I didn't want to even touch you. I was shivering, rocking. Months of frustrated, gradual heartbreak accumulating in my heart, all of it, coming at me right then. Little pieces of gradual heartbreak kicking and screaming at the walls of my chest and it hurt, and it felt so heavy I couldn't think about anything other than your warm body turned away from me right there in my bed, and I screamed. Out loud at 3:00 am, something inside of me broke, and you woke up.

"Babe, what's going on."

We were both sitting then, the sheets bunched up between us, and one sliver of moonlight sneaking through the window and falling, square and blue, on the floor just short of the bed where we sat in black before-dawn darkness.

"Look at me and tell me when you stopped loving me."

I was sobbing. Convulsing, entirely. All those little pieces of gradual heartbreak spilling out of me in some kind of nauseous, shivering catharsis.

"Christ's sake, Kate, why are we doing this right now. What are you talking about."

"What happened to us? You are not the man who loved me harder than anyone has ever loved me. You are not the man I loved until my heart was on fire. You are not him anymore, where did he go?"

"He is gone."

You stared me in the eyes and you told me he was gone.

My entire being shattered.

My heart shook. My body became useless and foreign and cold.

I had drowned in something. I wasn't breathing.

Seven hours later, and the sliver of moonlight had turned into a flood of yellow-white April morning heat and I was wrapped up in you. Your face buried in my hair, still, from when you had been whispering, telling me it would be ok, back in the hours before it was light. Your arms around the small of my back and my shoulders, holding me to your chest.

My entire being shattered.

My heart shook.
My body was useless and foreign and cold.
I had drowned.

But somehow in my deep-ocean, full-bodied death, I had found a space to breathe. I was breathing in this yellow-white sunlight moment. You were holding me.

We got up and faced the day like the team we once were and wanted to pretend to be, still. All the poison and blue cold of the previous night left behind in the before-dawn nightmare place, tucked under the surface of a calm dead sea.

And that was it.

From that day forward we stayed numb, existing slowly and muted together under dark water, used to it. We found color and light in parts of our lives separate from one another, so opposite of how we spent our first years together, but we grew used to it.

Until June 27. Living in the space by your side, drowned but breathing, until June 27. Until we kissed each other goodbye outside on the wide stone steps, and everything felt okay. I was no longer trapped under the dark weight of the whole ocean, and I felt ok.

But that was only the beginning, and we should have known that. TC mark

If You Still Love Me, Never Let Me Know

Posted: 02 Nov 2016 05:00 PM PDT

Pexels
Pexels

Unless you’ve changed since we’ve parted ways, unless you’re ready to commit yourself to me in a way that you weren’t able to before, then please don’t let me know how you feel. Don’t let me know that you sit up in bed at night, wondering how I’ve been doing. Don’t let me know that you’ve drafted hundreds of texts that you’ve never sent out to me. Don’t let me know that you’ve started drinking more in the hopes of wiping the taste of my lips off of you.

If you still love me, never let me know. I can’t know, because if I did, then I’d never stop thinking about you. And it’s already hard enough to get over you. It’s hard to keep your name lodged in my throat when all I want to do is talk about you. It’s hard to wake up in the morning, dreams of you fresh in my mind, and remind myself that it’s just fiction. That we’re not meant to be together in the real world.

Because we’re not meant to be together. It didn’t work out. It’s over. So don’t try to pull me back and break my heart a second time. I can’t get over you again. It was hard enough the first time. I’m still struggling to deal with the first time.

If you care about me at all, don’t text me when you’re lonely. Don’t tell me that I look beautiful when we run into each other. Don’t comment on my social media posts. Don’t insert yourself into my life.

And don’t you dare tell me that you still love me, unless you mean that you love me enough to fix the problems we had in the past. Unless it means that you want to give our relationship another try, because you know that you’ve grown enough to give me the relationship that I deserve. Unless it means that you’re going to put all of your effort into making us happy.

But if your “I love you” just means that you miss me, or that you want to jump back into the same unhealthy relationship we once had, then I don’t want to hear it. It won’t do anything. It’ll only increase my pain, and I’ve already reached my limit.

So don’t tell me you love me. Don’t tell me you care. Don’t tell me that hurting me was the biggest mistake you ever made or that you hate yourself for what you’ve done to me. Let me think that you hate me. That you don’t want anything to do with me. That there’s no chance in hell that you’d take me back. Because it’s easier that way.

It’s easier to move on by telling myself it’s officially over with you–that you’re never going to step foot in my life again. It’s easier when I’m afraid to text you, because I think you won’t want to hear from me. It’s easier to lie to myself than to face the truth.

So, if you really love me, you’ll stay away. TC mark

For The Girl Chasing The Guy Who Just Isn’t Into Her

Posted: 02 Nov 2016 04:01 PM PDT

Brooke Cagle
Brooke Cagle

With myself just recently being that girl for the 14th million time (or so it seems) I've come to reach an understanding about the routine. You meet someone, go on date, click, thing's are going well. You start to fall only to realize, oops. They stop texting you.

You curse the culture of our generation for the games, going back in your mind replaying every scenario and wonder: what is wrong with me?

You pathetically attempt to gain back their fondness for you, only to realize you're making the matter worse. Stop.

As cliché as it sounds, I constantly remember the saying "you could be the juiciest peach in the world, but someone will always dislike peaches". As a person who dislikes peaches, I understand.

Why he stopped messaging me? Who knows? I could think of a thousand reasons as to the possibilities.

As much as I wonder what I could have done differently and overthink myself into a mess, it's important to remember for anyone that you were just being yourself. You know in your heart that you wouldn’t have changed anything.

I noticed during the scenario when I was trying to impress "The Guy", he couldn’t have cared less. I was being my goofy self, dancing in a group setting and while I was doing that, many other people noticed and had fun with me. Those are the people you need to focus on. The ones who enjoy being around you and that you don’t need to try so hard to win over.

I even went so far as to attempt to apologize for my goofiness he didn't like. I apologized for being myself basically (Face-palm). Needless to say, he never responded.

It's so hard especially when you just want that one person to like you. I've learned this time and time again throughout my life in so many different scenarios; it just means something better is coming.

So why are you listening to the girl who’s done this 14 million times? When it comes to my 14th million and one time, I think I'll know how to go about it. TC mark

I’m Finally Ready To Say Goodbye

Posted: 02 Nov 2016 04:00 PM PDT

 Everton Vila
Everton Vila

Goodbye to how you made me feel, like I was less than or unworthy of your time and attention.

Goodbye to your lies and who you really were deep down, the shameful parts you never let me see.

Goodbye to the constant anxiety that “defining our relationship” always gave me, because you know better than me, that we were never on the same wavelength.

Goodbye to missed opportunities I let slip away, while waiting for you to “complete” me and start my “real” life.

Goodbye to trying to fit the mold you created for me to live up to.

Goodbye to fighting for your love.

Goodbye to shaming other girls I thought were standing in the way of us being together.

Goodbye to believing you when you say you’ll change, you’ll be different this time.

Goodbye to thinking things could possibly work between us, that your heart could undergo a deep, supernatural change and become real, genuine or humble.

Goodbye to guilt and regret after realizing I can’t ever make us work.

Goodbye to further self-pity after trying so hard to do the impossible (make you love me).

And finally, Goodbye to the you I thought I knew, I will always love and miss you, even if you weren’t real.  TC mark

I Thought I Would Die On A NYC Subway After Someone Screamed ‘He’s Got A Gun!’

Posted: 02 Nov 2016 03:30 PM PDT

Viktor Forgacs
Viktor Forgacs

After moving to New York from a small mountain town in North Carolina, I remember feeling euphoric at the thought of living in such a spectacular City; and I made sure to take advantage of every free moment by exploring. It took a year and a half of whittling down my enthusiasm with nine-hour work days before I started falling into a routine that would be similar to anywhere else: get up, go to work, eat, sleep, repeat.

I stopped thinking anything of the teeming tourists or incognito celebrities unless they fell across my path when I was late to work. However, the one aspect of living in New York that has remained unique is the presence of its metro: the New York City subway. At the beginning and end of each week day, I board the train for a gloriously brief fifteen minute commute.

One summer evening, I was lucky enough to catch a train just as it was arriving. I hopped on a relatively empty car and settled myself near the sliding door that allows for entry and exit between the train cars. Music blasted through my headphones as I felt the usual lurch forward. I was already falling into a semi-cognitive state when I noticed a commotion at the opposite end of the train car. There was a young guy in a suit face to face with a tall man with dirty clothes. Their attire was all I caught before noticing that the remaining passengers were peeling out of their seats, sprinting directly toward me.

"He's got a gun! Run!"

In what felt like slow motion, I uprooted myself and was immediately sandwiched in between a group of ten people trying to squeeze through the train car door into the neighboring car. The squeal of iron on iron filled my ears as someone knocked frantically. "Let us in!"

A confused expression crossed the face a gentleman on the other side of the neighboring car door. He shook his head after trying to open it, signaling that the door was stuck.

My body was in an L shape. I felt the pressure of bodies pushing in on me at all sides. We were bent down, which in hindsight, would not have been helpful for us. We were sitting ducks for the man with the gun. Prayers spilled out of my mouth, and I wondered when the blackness would come. Or is it a light that appears once one dies?

It is still a mystery as to how long it took before the next stop's platform emerged from the darkness. Time is mercurial in that way. It could have been five minutes; it could have been fifteen. I heard the automatic doors opened, and the conductor announced where we were through a fuzzy speaker, just as always. There was a cautious release of pressure behind me as people stepped back. I stood up and turned around.

Some brave soul ensured that the doors did not shut before the apparent threat was neutralized. It appeared that the two men who had been arguing had not moved since the time I had first seen them. The man with the dirty clothes exited the train in a huff. The automatic doors dinged and closed. The train lurched forward.

Excited conversation began to flow around me. "I've seen that guy before. He's crazy."

"He said, 'I got somethin' for ya' to that young guy. He reached into his pocket. It looked like he might've had a gun."

I heard a sputtering and heavy breathing. A giggle. They were laughing. Uncontrollably. My mouth was pulled at the corners by some invisible string into a smile, but I felt nothing on the inside.

A foggy silence engulfed me shortly after, as though I was looking at the world through frosted glass. My stop came and I exited the train. I robotically climbed the stairs to my third-floor walk up and immediately crossed over to my bedroom window. Looking out at pink, fluffy clouds, I reflected on the reality of where I lived: a city of eight million inhabitants, all squished in on little over 300 square miles of land. Life here wasn't like anywhere else. I would never forget that again. TC mark

What You Should Know About The Girl Who Is Used To Being Left

Posted: 02 Nov 2016 03:00 PM PDT

freestocks
freestocks

There’s a million ways a heart can break. And a million different kinds of people who can break it. But within that scattered shower of pieces strewn all around, there is a beauty no one can quite put into words. The girl that is used to being left, may just be the most beautiful one you’ll ever meet.

If you were to close your eyes, and told to picture one image in your head when you hear the word “leaving,” what comes to mind? If you were told to draw that image, and exchange with 5 others, would those drawings be similar? What about 10 people? 50? 1,000? People’s experiences may be similar, but the way those experiences make us feel is what separates us.

The girl that is used to being left, can feel the most separated.

People are notorious for leaving. We live in a world where our options are seemingly endless and our infinitesimal attention spans flit from one shiny object to the next. Any person can leave. Spouse, parent, sibling, friend, child.

The girl that is used to being left has felt the pain of saying goodbye to each of these.

Leaving occurs in varying ways. Sometimes dizzying. And the choice is not completely ours to make, often times the choice is already decided. Fading love, dividing circumstances, death, none of which can be controlled.

The girl that is used to being left, has seen each of these first hand.

You may or may not think of leaving in the same way that she does, or have felt it at the same capacity. But you should know that what she craves more than having someone who stays, is someone who understands.

The emotion she yearns for from you isn’t sympathy, but empathy.

If you can truly see the pieces laying all around her and understand just how they got to be so jagged and fragmented, the girl who is used to being left may start to believe you’ll stay. TC mark

Today Is A Sad Day

Posted: 02 Nov 2016 01:30 PM PDT

Wellington Sanipe
Wellington Sanipe

I’m really sad today,
and I’m not sure why,
maybe it’s a multitude of things,
maybe it’s hormonal,
or maybe today is just a sad day.

People see your sadness as a disease that needs to be treated,
it’s a fire that must be extinguished,
a deadly virus in which can infect everyone around you,
but is that really such a horrible thing?
To feel emotions in which are considered "negative"?

Is it really such a bad thing for people to see that you’re "human"?

Maybe today’s just a sad day and there’s actually nothing personal.
Don’t try to be a hero. Let me feel this. TC mark

I Could Never Hate You Despite The Torture You Put Me Through (But It’s Time For Me To Walk Away)

Posted: 02 Nov 2016 01:00 PM PDT

@NickBulanovv
@NickBulanovv

You don't get it at all; I don't hate you, I could never hate you.

When I told you I didn't want to talk to you anymore it was never because I started hating you. It was because I couldn't take one more goodbye. I couldn't take one more night of hoping you'd show up or call when you said you would. I couldn't take another day of wondering if you'd be around.

I don't hate you, I could never hate you because all I feel is sadness in my heart about us, about you. Everyone tells me to get mad, but I can't. I wish I could fill my heart with hate towards you because that would make this so much easier. But I don’t hate you. I wish I thought of you and could get angry and let it overake the sadness that's been consuming me, but I can't. It just doesn't work that way. Thoughts of you pass by my head and all I can think of is how much I miss you.

I think of how I wish I could run to you and tell you I love you, I wish I could spill my heart out and have you feel the same way, but I know you don't.

I finally realized I can't keep chasing someone who doesn't want to be caught.

I can't keep trying to make something out of nothing, I can't keep romanticizing the conversations we have and the nights you come over late at night. I can't do that to myself anymore and all I want is for you to understand that.

I can't be okay with someone who is only half invested in me, someone who makes me disgustingly happy but leaves me hanging out to dry most of the time.
I wish you could see what you make me feel and what you do to me because then maybe, just maybe, you would understand. But you don't get it and you I don’t think you ever will.

You think I wanted to stop talking to you because I don't care about you anymore or that I hate you when that couldn't be further from the truth. I stopped talking to you because I decided it's time to put myself first and it's eating me up. It's ripping me apart and making me so sad. I wish you could see that.

You broke my heart so many times and I just go right back because I crave you, I want you so bad, but I realized I can't live like this anymore.

I can't sit around for days without hearing from you without so much as an apology. I can't wait up for all hours of the night hoping you'll call me when you finish doing whatever it is you're doing. I can't do it anymore. I need consistency and reliability.

You were just never there when I needed you most and I couldn't take being left out in the cold anymore.

I need more and I need someone who doesn't make me feel like I'm on top of the mountain one day then waking up alone the next to find out the mountain was an erupting volcano and you left me alone to fend for myself because that's how you make me feel.

All I ever wanted was for you to love me back, but you don't and I don't think you ever will be able to.

Please understand I don't hate you, I never will be able to hate you, but I also can't talk to you anymore. I can't reply to your messages and I'm done liking your pictures. I can't do any of it anymore because every time I think of you it devastates me and I can't live like that anymore.

I have to you let you go because I can't take the weight of the sadness I feel inside my chest anymore.

And the worst part about all of this is – you probably don’t even notice I’m gone. TC mark