It’s  dark.

And you’re sitting emotionlessly still

For minutes

For days

For who knows how long it’s been

You can’t move.

Because if you twist your body

if you lower your head

if you so much as flinch.

You’ll feel it.

Aching inside of you.

Inside the part of you that the doctors can’t even get to

The part of you that your favorite person couldn’t even reach with reassuring words and unconditional love.

You’ll feel it.

Existing.

Some nights it’ll be aching so painfully that you’ll wish you could rip open a hole in your chest and finally just tear it out of you.

But you can’t.

So it continues to ache.

It continues to exist.

And you continue to sit still.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.


I sit next to you

Hopelessly.

I hold your hand until you can wander around without the aching bringing you to your knees.

I watch you drink until you can’t feel your limbs and you’re stumbling around the house,

Falling into doors and laughing about it.

I laugh with you.

I let you take advantage of my presence while saying words you don’t mean.

I love you,”

you say

Who am I sitting next to?

you think


I feel that I’m watching a child crawl around blindly in a cave they happened to stumble into one day while on an innocent adventure.

You fell into this cave.

A cave that is long and black and absolutely terrifying.

I know that cave.

I walked through the passages and screamed down the tunnels until my voice was just a scratched up whisper.

I know exactly where you’re at.

And I can’t do anything about it.


I want so badly to follow you into the cave.

I want to search through every single passage, inside every single crevice until I find you hiding in a corner waiting for me.

I want to hold your cold clammy hands, pull you up onto unsteady feet, and lead you back out of that godforsaken cave.

I want to find you.

I want to save you.

But I can’t.

Because I’d get lost, myself.

And that frustration is absolutely ripping me apart.

It’s destroying everything I am

And everything good I have ever believed in.

Because can’t save you. 

So, I’m begging you.

Please don’t ask me to walk back in there.

Because I would in a fraction of a heartbeat.

You know that.

But so many horrible things could go wrong.

What if we never found our way out?

What if the aching hurt so bad that one of us laid down to rest and then never woke up again?

What if we never laid eyes on each other again?

What if

What if

What if


So instead of running into the cave carelessly,

I will stand by the entrance

By the light.

And wait

And call your name

And tell you that I love you

And I’ll laugh when you drunkenly fall into doors while holding my hand

And I’ll watch your favorite movie with you twice in one day just so the aching is relieved for an hour or two.

And then

During one particularly sunny day,

You will emerge from this cave

Caked in dirt and blood,

Ache-less

And I will run up,

Pull you into the most satisfying hug you will ever receive,

Smile like a fool

And say,

It’s nice to see you again, old friend.

 

 

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter –@littlelionbecca

 

I think you’re really pretty.

I used to hate thinking you were really pretty.

I used to wish you were plain; I used to wish you were boring.

I used to wish you had dead bodies in your closet or that your Instagram photos weren’t so freakin’ cute.

Because maybe then he wouldn’t have chosen you.

But a few months ago, I had a life altering realization.

And that is why I’m writing this letter.


I’ve been wanting to have this conversation with you for a while because I feel that I owe you an explanation as to why I was in love with your love for so long.

I know he’s yours now.

But he was once mine.

And we were once happy.

For six months, I was the one who lifted him up and made him feel like a little kid. I was the one racing him down sidewalks and watching him scream I love you at the top of his lungs. I was the one wearing his high school t-shirts and sleeping next to him every other night. I was making him happy.

I was his.

Because you weren’t there.

He had never said your name before.

He had no idea that you even existed.

And I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy the days when you were nonexistent.


The months before I heard your name for the first time were the most beautifully tragic months I’ve ever lived through.

I remember the way he looked at me after he heard me sing for the first time. He counted how many times we made eye contact that night and it turned out to be about 30 times… We were kind of ridiculous like that.

I remember when I held his hand for the first time. We were watching a movie in my dorm room when he held his hand out and asked me to lie down next to him. I threw a pillow at his face because I was so embarrassed and shy… but after his third attempt, I took his hand anyway.

I remember when he accidentally told me he loved me almost every single day after we’d been dating for two weeks. I’d say something funny and he’d reply, “Ah… and that’s why I love you.” Then he’d run away screaming, “IT WAS AN ACCIDENT PRETEND I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING!

I remember the moment I thought I realized he was not the guy I was going to end up with.

I remember being wrong.

I remember watching our love tailspin to rock bottom when I became insecure with the relationship and demanded unrealistic things from him.

I remember leaving him.

I remember regretting it.

I remember feeling so far away from God because I believed He had taken the only true love I’d ever experienced away from me like He was tearing skin from the bone.

I remember not leaving my bed for three months.

I remember hearing your name for the first time.

I remember crying.

A lot.

I remember the bad months just as much as the good months.

And I honestly can’t tell you which ones hurt more.


I sometimes wish I would forget all the sweet facts that make up who he is as a person.

But I memorized them as I’m sure you have.

We both know he’s an introvert who tries exceptionally hard to be an extrovert. We both know he loves capes for some reason. We both know he suffers from occasional crippling anxiety. We both know how much he loves milk. We both know he loves pulling pranks but is also terrified of getting in trouble because he’s a good boy at heart. We both know that he h8s h8ers. And we both know his darling mother means more to him than either of us ever could.

We both know him fairly well.

You more so than I.

But then again, you held his hand much longer than I did.


I never so strongly believed in a love like I believed in him.

He was the one.

Was.

Not too long ago, I moved on and I now believe in a new love.

A steadier love.

And I truly believe there is more than one person out there in the world that we are meant to be with.

Because if there’s only one, then wow, we’re all screwed.


So if I’m no longer in love with him… why did I decide to write this?

Because I want you to know that I feel no resentment toward you.

And that I just really hope you make him happy.

Because that is all I ever wanted to give him.

Happiness.

His happiness meant more to me than my own. I was unable to give him the happiness he needed.

And it almost killed me.

But I hope in the end everything works out better for you.

And I hope you get to be with the love of our lives because you really do deserve to be happy.

I hope that if you ever decide to leave, he’ll love you enough to stop you at the door and kiss you until you decide to stay.

I hope you turn around and promise that you’ll never leave his side.

I hope you don’t make the same mistake I did.

I hope you stay.

Because one of us has to.

And it’s much too late for me.

I hope your love lasts much longer than ours ever did, and I hope you don’t see me as his ex-love who is resentful because I no longer carry his heart around.

I’m merely the girl who was meant to love him right before you came along.

And even though I didn’t know that for a very very long time (I may not have known it until I finished writing this letter), I know it now. And it’s a role I’m not ashamed to play.

Because at least I got him for six months.

At least I had enough time to memorize him completely.

At least I have his love safe in my heart so I can revisit it whenever I miss him.

I do miss him.

A lot sometimes.

But I’m always reassured with the beautiful fact that he has you.

And you won’t leave him.


And that is why I wrote this for you.

Because I think you’re really pretty, and I think it may in fact be forever between you two.

And if you were meant to be his life long love story,

Then I’m just happy to be the prologue.

Love,

The girl he loved before you

.

.

.

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @beccatremmel

I know how much pain you’re in. I understand why you’ve made the bathroom floor your home and why you haven’t eaten anything besides cheez-its in over a week. I get it, Angel.

He hurt you.

Angel, I know you don’t want to pick yourself off the ground and limp back to the unforgiving world like nothing ever happened. I know this feels like the end for you.

Or at least you want it to be.

I know you had a panic attack last night that left you screaming and crying while throwing your pillow around the room while his words echoed mercilessly inside your head,

“I don’t love you anymore.”


And I know you’re still in love with him, Angel. I know you thought you were stronger than him.

I know your argument.

“It was 3am and we were laughing harder than my will could take and his blue eyes had never looked more lovely and his thoughts were for my ears only… And I was screwed.”

I’ve heard the things he’s said. I’ve sat in that bed and watched his perfect lips form promising words.

“It’s different with you.”

“You make me feel so comfortable.”

“I’ve never told anyone that.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

and other things that you know he hasn’t told another soul.

You thought you were different.

And maybe you were.

But maybe that 3am nonsense talk was just that… nonsense.

And maybe he wasn’t showing you broken, scattered pieces of his soul that were for your eyes only.

Maybe they were just words that were mindlessly said after a long, sleepless night.


You thought he’d stay.

I mean he promised, didn’t he?

You let your darkest thought slip out of your mouth and he was still able to find some small light.

He became your light, Angel.

But you need to become your own light.


Because we all say things we don’t mean. We all break promises.

We all get lost in the moment when someone is kissing our neck and we prematurely blurt out,

“I love you.”

We all do stupid things without thinking of the repercussions

We all run around on untouched, fresh snow. We all pick the prettiest flowers and then watch them wilt. We all wear and re-wear our favorite sweater until it tears at the seam.

Sometimes people don’t think, Angel. But that doesn’t mean they’re out to burn you.

Please, Angel, don’t start looking for that darkness in the world.


I know he chased away some really terrifying storms.

I know he said some really wonderful things.

And I know he’s really pretty

…but so are flowers.

Angel you shouldn’t be on the floor. And you shouldn’t grieve over a memory. Because at the end of the day, that’s all he is

…a memory.


I know it hurts right now. Worse than it ever has.

But you have to hold on, Angel

You have to strap your wings back on.

You have to be the stunning light that you are.

Because love will not be the thing that kills you.

That’s unacceptable.

Oh, and one last thing before I go, Angel,

Don’t you dare settle for anything less than heaven.

Love,

Someone Who Knows

I’m a koala.

I love attaching myself to people and never letting them go.

I love people.

And I love loving people.

I’ve learned that there’s a unique genre of people who get unavoidably attached incredibly easily.

I call these people koalas.

Because we’re the people who want to hug you and refuse to let go even when you squirm to get away.

We’ll keep loving the crap outta you.

Sorry ‘bout it.


There are beautiful traits and experiences that come with being koala

But there are also really heart wrenching lessons that we have to learn and those lessons will tear us apart more than any non-koala will ever understand.

Koalas have this amazing gift of opening up to anything with a heartbeat. Vulnerability is our second language because we’re addicted to making connections with people.

Koalas trust people easily because there is good in every soul, even if it looks pitch black. We’ll find the good.

However, trusting everyone can backfire. Sometimes we open up to the wrong people and put valuable information in their dirty hands. One of the first lessons a koala will learn is not everybody wants to see you flourish and overcome your trials.

Sometimes people steal your wings and then push you off the ledge while yelling, “Why aren’t you flying??”

Koalas don’t understand those people or how they can possibly find entertainment in watching others’ fail. But we still love those people, because we can’t help it.


So how do you know if you’re a koala? How do you spot a koala? Well I’ve noticed some shining traits that koalas have. Here are a few,

  1. Those people who seem to have about 357 “best friends” and who are always surrounded by a crowd

Example – “I have to buy Christmas gifts for my best friends Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Phoebe, Ross, Joey, Gunther, Mike, Taylor, Kesha, Sara, Hunter, etc”

  1. Those people who keep old movie tickets and leave dead flowers in their room because they’re “sentimental” and make them think of someone they adore.

Example – I still have my ticket to a Hannah Montana concert I went to in 7th grade because I went with my best friend and I’m incapable of throwing it out.

  1. Those people who remember dates to the point where it’s abnormal.

Example – “Hey did you know that 5 years ago today you and I went to that one park right by your church and talked for hours about love, religion and our passions? HAPPY FRIENDIVERSARY.”

  1. Those people who open up like it’s their major.

Example – If you and I go on a coffee date I can honestly say that within a half hour, you will know my entire life story including the dark parts. I can’t control how much I share… it’s like word vomit.

  1. And finally those people who cherish the smallest acts of kindness by others.

Example – “Oh my gosh, you’re letting me come over into your lane despite all of this traffic? Can I buy you dinner sometime? How about flowers? How do you feel about love at first sight? I just really think we’d be forever friends….”


Does any of that sound like you? If so, congrats! You’ve got the most wonderful, heartbreaking, beautiful, naïve, loving, destructive, inspiring condition that a person can have!

So go out and throw your open heart at unsuspecting people

Maybe they’ll accept you.

Maybe they won’t.

But you’re a koala and no heart shattering experience will ever stop you from loving everything unconditionally.

And that’s quite an amazing trait to have.


So just keep being the adorable koala that you are

Because the world needs loving people like you to make connections and love like there’s no tomorrow.


I believe in you

and I love you.

-Becca Tremmel