It’s raining harder than it has in years.

The city is asleep as it prepares for another hectic Monday morning.

The pavement glows underneath her as she runs from her car to his doorstep.

She’s breathless

A ball of anxiety

But pounds fearlessly on his door anyway.

Minutes pass as she stares at the ground and bites her lip.

Finally, he pulls open the door.

Shocked.

They haven’t spoken in several months.

But months of silence couldn’t suffocate the four years she’s spent completely in love with him.

Should’ve known better.

She thinks to herself in hindsight.

They stand in complete silence.

Until finally,

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.”

Silence.

Her eyes slowly lift to meet his.

Those perfect, innocent green eyes that have kept her mesmerized for years.

This is it.

They’ve never kissed, surprisingly.

She thought about kissing him every day for four years.

This is it.

This is it.

This is it.

Her mind trips over itself thinking and re-thinking over every possible reaction he could have.

This is it.

She loses eye contact with him when she closes her eyes and inhales the last breath she will ever breathe not having kissed him.
This is it.

All she needs is ten seconds of blinding courage

This is it.

Her legs carry her to him with wavering confidence

This is it.

And she places her hands on either side of his puzzled face

This is it.

And pulls her lips to his

This is it.

And the past four years of frustration,

Anger,

Depression,

Guilt,

And heartbreak

Slowly melt away

Drop by drop

With this one kiss.

The kiss we’ve all been waiting for.

And everything that has bruised her,

Stung her,

Left her broken on the bathroom floor,

Or helpless on her knees

Suddenly all made sense.

Because all of those moments

Brought her to this moment

With him.

And she decides that she would live through those painful moments a thousand times over

As long as they always ended right here

Right now

Her lips on his.

His heart against hers.

~One Month Before “The Break”~

 

We were so close.

Lying together in that same bed.

But I had never felt further away from you.

“Please, just tell me what to do.” you panicked.

“I think I’m having an anxiety attack, babe. Tell me how to make this better.”

You pleaded breathlessly.

I was facing away from you on the other side of the bed.

Letting my fingers dig into your blue comforter as I sighed with a hint of annoyance.

“Just… breathe.”

Your breath shallowed and I heard whimpering for the next 15 minutes.

Then silence.

A sensation of overwhelming guilt flooded over my body like a blanket that threatened to suffocate me.

I was in no place to help you.

But I felt a more powerful feeling than even guilt in that particular moment.

Unwavering anger.

I was pissed.

Pissed that you had broken my trust a month prior.

Pissed that I felt on edge with every girl you shook hands with.

Pissed that I was so pissed.

I wanted to love you unconditionally and hold you close and help you steady your breathing and tell you over and over and over again how wonderful and talented you are.

How incredibly special you are to me

But I didn’t.

Instead,

I fell asleep.

And that hideous memory is seared into the back of my mind.

I have never been more ashamed of myself or my actions than in that moment.

For someone who preaches constantly about love, understanding, patience and forgiveness,

I was being cruel.

The visual of us lying there while I cold heartedly held my pride instead of you rarely leaves my conscience.

I am so sorry.

I will always be sorry.

 

~ One week before “The Break”~

 

We drove in your car and got hopelessly lost on the backroads around your new house.

We were laughing and singing “Tear in My Heart” to each other after discovering an adorable French restaurant near your new home.

I was still broken.

We were still broken.

But drop by drop I was feeling the blind rage leave my body,

Slowly but surely

I began to think to myself,

Maybe if I just say something new, something really emotional and future-oriented, he’ll feel special and loved by me once again.

Maybe that will be what fixes us.

Looking back on that impulsive thought, I should’ve put much more intentionality into what I said next,

“I think you may be the love of my life.” I blurted out.

Because I now know that I said it out of fear of losing you rather than actually meaning it.

“I could really see forever with you.” I pushed further.

Silence.

Wide-eyed

Panicked

Agonizing

Silence.

Oh. Shit.

Wow um… babe… that’s… really sweet of you to.. err… say.”

We were still endlessly lost and looking for your house.

And in that moment, I realized we were on a dead end road.

 

~The Break~

 

We sat parked in my driveway for 6 minutes before you answered my question.

“Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” I begged.

“I have a horrible pit in my stomach and I know something’s wrong.” I kept pushing.

I was always pushing.

“Whenever I feel the pit… something is always wrong…” My words trailed off as I gave you time to respond.

6 minutes of silence.

“I just don’t think this is really working.” you half-whispered.

Ouch.

“Okay… why do you feel that way?” I said, already knowing the answer.

“Because it’s just not.” you snapped.

You took a deep breath, squeezed the steering wheel, and let your eyes drop to the floor.

“Maybe we need a… break?” you said, admitting defeat.

Tears streamed down my face.

I never believed that you would actually give up on me.

I never thought I’d live to see that mortifying moment.

“If that’s how you feel. How long would this.. um…”

I choked

“… break be?”

You paused for a second and cocked your head to the side while looking out the windshield.

“Well… how does two weeks sound?”

I wiped my cheeks and quickly opened your car door.

“Okay, sounds great. Talk to you then.” I panicked.

I shut your car door and started running towards my house

Because falling a part on my driveway didn’t seem so… nonchalant.

And my pride begged me to come off nonchalant.

“Wait, babe.”

You had gotten out of your car and you looked so helpless with those arms falling so heavy against your sides.

“What does this mean?”

Your voice cracked.

I stood there frozen.

And we just stared at each other.

I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to run back into your arms and beg for you to forgive my daily angry outbursts.

Or if you wanted me to just cut the chord right then and there so we wouldn’t have to have this conversation a second time.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“I don’t know.”

And I turned around and walked into my house.

That definitely wasn’t the right response.

I slid onto the floor and felt the weight of a two ton truck sitting on my chest squeezing every last bit of oxygen out of my lungs.

After a few minutes past,

Your car door shut .

And then you were gone.

 

~The Breakup~

 

Sitting on my front porch, I contemplated what I was about to say to you;

How I was going to beg for your forgiveness,

How I was going to give you the 14 letters I had written to you everyday while we hadn’t spoken,

How I was going to ask for my favorite pair of shoes back.

I went over every possible conversation we could have

And how I was going to finally swallow my pride for the first time in my life

And just desperately ask you to stay and work on this with me.

I could do it.

Probably.

I looked down at my phone to check the time.

4:50pm

You’d be here in 10 minutes.

My eyes looked at the sky and I finally just started praying.

I prayed for wisdom and for overwhelming peace with whatever decision we would make together.

I prayed for you to feel respected, loved and understood during this conversation we were about to have.

I prayed for God to just take control of everything and to just give me the words I needed to say in order to successfully make it through this talk.

Then I thanked Him for bringing us together.

Because despite what was about to happen,

I was completely in love with you.

And you were the best boyfriend I ever had.

And that was definitely something to be thankful for.


Your jeep pulled into the driveway.

The car door opened and I saw your face for the first time in two weeks.

You shaved.

Our eyes met briefly before they fell to the ground and you began walking on my lawn towards my front steps.

My heart tumbled into my stomach and I crossed my arms so you wouldn’t see how badly my hands were shaking.

“Hi there.” I said nervously, as you walked up.

Crap, I hope that sounded confident.

You stopped a few feet away from me and stared at me curled up on the steps.

Hands buried deep in your pockets.

“Hey.”


 

 

*Part 2 will be posted on July 12th*

Thank you for reading,

Becca Tremmel

 

Facebook –  Becca Tremmel 

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m not sure who the eff “he” is.

He could be your ex,

He could be some guy you’re crushing on hardcore but don’t want to overwhelm with your feral emotions,

He could be your boyfriend who we’re currently mad at because he did that annoying thing again,

Or your mailman.

For whatever reason,

You don’t want to call him.

That’s fine. I’m sure there’s a good reason.

I got you, girl.

Whoever he is, here are 55 things to do instead of calling him.


1. Go on a hike. The fresh air will do ya good.

2. Call an old friend who you haven’t talked to in over two years.

3. Paint your nails a crazy color

4. Take a nap

5. Drive to a neighboring state and spend the day exploring

6. Read a self help book

7. Write your own self help book

8. Adopt a pet and then cuddle with it

9. Grab some margaritas with your bestie

10. Learn how to play the harmonica

11. Watch every Lord of the Rings movie plus the bonus features (that’ll kill about 15 hours)

12. Drive around your town blasting the full “1989” album plus those bangin’ bonus songs

13. Plan a birthday party for a friend. I don’t care if it’s six months in advance or if you only know her though math class.

14. Throw caution to the wind and re-download Tinder

15. Hate yourself after receiving your first “send nudes” message and then re-delete Tinder

16. Or send nudes. You do you.

17. I lied. Don’t send nudes.

18. Go to a shooting range and take some shooting lessons

19. Write a strongly worded letter to congress about a current issue/law that pisses you tf off.

20. Watch clips from the Teletubbies and re-discover how effing creepy those things are

Teletubbies-371606

Good. Bye.

21. Create a workout schedule that’ll give you a bangin’ bod

22. Pick up some extra shifts at work

23. Or apply for a job you helpless, unemployed potato

24. Look up the sound frogs make when they’re afraid and laugh (Watch this)

25. Look up the sound zebras make and be as confused as I am (BUT WHY DO THEY DO THIS)

26. Get a haircut.

27. Delete random pics on your phone that are just taking up space (maybe delete some pics of him while you’re at it)

28. Learn how to cook

29. Cook something

30. Clean your apartment

31. But really, clean your apartment… It’s getting bad.

32. Get distracted while cleaning and look through the crap people wrote in your high school yearbooks

33. Stalk people from high school on Facebook.

34. Write a letter to him

35. Then set that shit on fire

36. Make a pinterest board with just pictures of baby animals

37. Take the Myers Briggs test. You’ll be entertained for at least two hours, I swear.

38. Create a blog !!!!!!

39. Cry yourself to sleep because now you’re just an emotional, oversharing blogger just like me

40. Go to a coffee shop

41. Join farmersonly.com just because

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#YouDontHaveToBeLonelyAtFarmersOnlyDotCom

42. Buy succulents and up your #aesthetic game

43. Start learning French. Bon Chance!

44. Read the bible (we all need to at some point)

45. Plan a weekend vacation

46. Figure out what type of tattoo you’d get if you were ever brave enough to get one

47. Screw it, get a tattoo

48. Maybe download Bumble instead of Tinder. I only want what’s best for you ❤

49. Find your old Gameboy Advance and play your favorite game

41X3B28XR7L

Gotta catch ’em all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

50. Start a new hobby

51. Make a list of the top 10 places you’d love to visit

52. Decide what your favorite song of all time is

53. Try eating a really healthy dinner #kale

54. Give up and order pizza (maybe you’ll find love with the delivery guy)

55. And if all else fails and you’re about 3 seconds from calling him, just toss your phone off a bridge. That’ll DEF keep you from calling him.


 

Good luck, girl. I believe in you.

Love,

Becca Tremmel

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

Seriously why?

What has he ever done to deserve a sunflower like you?

I know that he used to be a wonderful guy and he even bought you chocolate once or twice.

But that was at the beginning of your relationship.

Now he’s just an ass.


For instance, he asks you to buy his lunch daily because he refuses to get an actual job.

Remember when you had that panic attack because you thought you were about to fail out of school?

And instead of calling me

Your best friend

You called him.

😡

And he told you that you were being overly dramatic and then hung up.

Do you remember that?

Yeah, I remember that, too.

Or that time you guys had that big fight because he constantly talks to his ex-girlfriends about your relationship’s problems…

Oh but then he manipulated the situation and made it your fault because you didn’t trust him.

ugh.


I’ve kept my mouth shut for so long.

I’ve listened to you tell anticlimactic stories about how his good intentions almost saved the day that one time and it was almost really remarkable.

I’ve heard every “almost” story.

I’ve watched the entire relationship unfold miserably.

And I give you props for being such a forgiving and optimistic person.

But seriously dude

It has to stop.


You are such a stunning human being and it makes me physically ill to watch him treat you the way he does.

Every time he says, “You wear too much makeup.”

or, “You should lose weight.”

or, “Babe, don’t worry it’s just flirting. I’m not cheating on you.”

It hurts me to watch you hurt.

Because you absolutely do not wear too much makeup.

And you are absolutely perfect looking.

And flirting with someone else is absolutely cheating.

I don’t give an eff what he thinks.

Zero effs.

Not one.


At some point you have to realize that you’re worth more, right?

That there has to be a line

One that he cannot blur

One that he cannot cross

Right?

And when the day comes that he attempts to walk across that line you’ll set his ass straight.

Right?


God…

I am so worried for you

And for your heart.

Because every time he does another horrifying thing I witness a small part of who you are disappear into nothing.

I watch pieces of your identity fade away.

You don’t take mesmerizing photos anymore.

You don’t write colorful poetry anymore.

You never talk about God or your solid foundation of faith anymore.

No instead you talk about him and every little thing that he doesn’t like about you.

And every little thing that you need to change about yourself in order to keep him happy.

That terrifies me. 


But still, I have hope.

I hope you rediscover what a lovely soul you are and that your heart is one of the most precious things to exist on this earth.

I hope you find your sense of security in yourself and God rather than in a guy who doesn’t know the difference between love and lust.

I hope you walk outside one day and take some captivating photos.

And I hope you sit down and write a poem that could make a brick wall cry.

And when that beautiful day comes when you decide that you’re done with him,

The day you realize that he is completely full of it.

I will still be here

Ready to key his car

Ready to help you burn all his crap

Ready to do whatever illegal act is necessary to help you feel better

Because we’re best friends and that’s what we do.

But until then,

Whenever you talk about him or even just mention his stupid name,

I will continue to ask..

Every time

“Why the EFF are you dating him?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hate that word.

“Sociopath.”

It makes you sound like a complete monster.

Like some serial killer that we hear about on the news.

I don’t think you’re a monster.

Well, I didn’t used to think that you were a monster.

Because when I think of monsters I think of horrifying creatures that reside in my closet and only come out when I’m having a nightmare.

I don’t think of a handsome guy with nice hair sleeping in my bed and whispering “I love you so much” over and over and over again.

No, when I used to think of a monster, you never came to mind.

That changed.

I now see you for what you really are.

A sociopath.


 

You’re someone who feels absolutely no remorse.

Someone who could hurt me repeatedly over the course of a three year relationship.

Someone who feels some sick type of happiness whenever you meet your next victim.

Someone who hurts people

Badly.

Someone who hurt me

Badly.

Someone whom I loved

Badly.

I sure know how to pick ’em, right?


In my defense when I met you, I was 12 years old.

I didn’t even know what a boy was.

Let alone what love was.

I saw you and I was instantly enchanted with the firm way you held my hand during our first hand-shake.

The way your blue green eyes looked straight into mine as if you had known me for my entire life. Just as if we both knew right then that we were made to be together.

That thought stayed with me until I was 19 years old (much longer than I’d like to admit).


 

 

Only after I moved off to college and faded away from you did I realize that something about our relationship was just…

off.

I started having flashbacks that involved you and certain parts of our relationship that haunt me to this day.

And as much as I hate to say it,

I remember it all. 

I remember our very first “date” when I  was 15 and you shoved your hand down my pants in a public restaurant and I started crying.

You hadn’t even kissed me yet.

I remember when you screamed at me and told me you were going to hit me with your car because I couldn’t buy you dinner that day.

I remember you never taking “no” for an answer.

Not once.

I remember you saying horrible things about my family and alienating me from everyone I loved.

I remember things that I will probably never repeat for the remainder of my life.

I remember it all.

And I’d give anything to forget every last one of those memories.


 

What I still don’t understand is,

why?

Why me?

I loved every single piece of you

Even the dark ones.

The world has treated you horribly and I know that.

I was sitting there right beside you, holding your hand as it all took place.

And I was there as you intentionally hurt me over and over again so that I’d feel as horrible as you did all the time. 

You’ve had a hard life.

 

And I thought that if I could take even a shred of discomfort away from you,

If I could’ve taken any of the hard hits and spared you any second of pain,

I would’ve.

I allowed you to take advantage of me for years because I was 15 and I thought that I was doing the right thing because I loved you.

I was wrong. 

Love is not allowing someone to abuse you so that they can feel empowered and in control. 

 

And I’ve been terrified of you ever since the day I realized that you are a complete sociopath.

Because if I could recall every single one of my worst nightmares,

They’d always involve you.


 

I’m not sure when I’ll let go of the fear and move on.

I’ve been working on it for a while.

You’ve made me completely incapable of having anything close to a healthy relationship.

I hate that.

I just want to be happy.

I just want to move on.

I just want to let go and completely forget everything that has happened.

But we both know that’s impossible.

So instead I’m trying a different and sometimes unpopular tactic,

Forgiveness.


 

I forgive you for taking advantage of my innocent heart and attempting to destroy any piece of happiness that has ever come my way.

I forgive you for completely skewing my view of love to the point where manipulation should just be expected in any of my relationships.

I forgive you for saying horrible things about my family and for damaging my relationship with my mother.

I forgive you for making my high school experience an absolute living hell.

And I forgive you for taking out all of your pent up anger on me.

Me. 

The person who loved you more than anyone else ever had.

I forgive you.

But it’s not for your sake,

No.

It’s for me. 

Because I refuse to be your victim any longer.

I refuse to allow you to be my worst fear.

I refuse to believe that everything you did to me for those three years was out of “love”

I refuse to believe that’s love.

I refuse to believe that is anything close to love.

And I refuse to let this experience define me.

Because no matter how much hate and hurt your existence puts into this world,

I will stay a loving, merciful person.

I refuse to change.

I refuse to become as hateful as you.

So instead,

I forgive you.

 

 

 

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @BeccaTremmel

 

 

 

Well, consensual sex that is.

In fact, let’s just start by defining the term “consensual sex.”

Consensual sex is two adults willingly and verbally agreeing to engage in sexual activity with each other.

Not too difficult to understand, right?

But there are many misunderstandings associated with the term “consensual sex”

Because in our culture, the line that separates consensual sex from nonconsensual sex has been blurred.

If you are intoxicated can you give sexual consent?

If you are dating or married to someone, is there still a need for sexual consent?

If you flirt with a guy and wear sexy, revealing clothing are you basically asking for sex?

If you’ve had consensual sex with this person before, should it already be assumed that your next sexual encounter is consensual?

And if you’re already having sex with someone but change your mind in the middle of it, is it consensual sex?

The answer to all of these questions is no.

And I’ll explain why.


 

  1. Intoxication 

If someone is intoxicated or high, they cannot give sexual consent.

The reason for this is because when you’re drunk or high, your thinking is altered and you could be making drunk decisions that you wouldn’t have made if you were sober.

If sexual activity does occur between someone who is drunk and someone who is sober, the responsibility for the misinterpretation belongs to the sober person and it is considered rape.

If both parties are intoxicated, the responsibility falls on the person who initiated the sexual activity.

Just think of it like this: if you’re too drunk to drive, you’re too drunk to have sex.


 

   2.   Married/Dating

Just because you’re married or dating someone, does not mean that you have to have sex with them.

You’re not obligated to sleep with someone just because you’ve entered a relationship with them.

Consent should be absolutely clear every single time you have sex, and the only way to have clear consent is to verbally say “Yes.”

Even married people should only have sex when they actually want to.


 

3. Clothing/Teasing

I’m going to try and make this as clear as possible.

If I am wearing clothing that is considered “revealing,” that does not mean in any way at all that I am inviting you to have sex with me.

Let’s look at it like this,

If I buy a beautiful brand new Mercedes-Benz and drive it around the town, I am not inviting you to take my car and give it a spin.

Just like if I’m wearing a pretty dress, I’m not hinting that you should take it off.

The only way someone could possibly be “asking for sex” is if someone literally says, “I want to have sex with you.”

Let’s not blame the victim or what they were wearing, let’s blame the rapist.


 

4.  Previous Sexual Consent

Again, consent must be given every single time someone has sex.

Let’s look at it like this, if you went out to dinner with someone last night then they shouldn’t be showing up at your door tonight assuming that you’re free to have dinner with them again. But when you tell them no, they get angry and start screaming, “But we had dinner last night and you were enjoying it! Why can’t we go out again tonight?!”

That’d be strange and you’d probably shut the door in their face.

So it doesn’t matter if you’ve had sex with someone before.

It doesn’t matter they’re asking for it again and calling you a “tease” or a “slut” because they know you’re “dtf.”

Just because you’ve engaged in sexual activity with someone before does not take away your power to say “No.”

You’re not a tease. They’re just disgusting.


 

5. Current Consensual Sexual Activity Turned Nonconsensual

People can change their mind once they’re already engaged in sexual activity.

If you begin having sex, that does not mean that you have to continue having sex.

Just verbally say that you no longer want to be engaged in that activity and if they stop, it’s not considered rape because you already consented.

However, if the activity continues, it’s considered sexual assault/rape.


 

I know that this topic is difficult to discuss and that many people misunderstand the line that defines consensual sex from nonconsensual sex, but that is exactly why I wrote this: to clarify.

Because when I was in high school, I had no idea what determined nonconsensual sex from consensual sex.

I thought it was simple.

I thought “sexual assault” could only occur when a poor girl was walking down the street and a random maniac popped out of the bushes and attacked her.

But according to RAINN (The nation’s largest anti-sexual assault organization),

“82% of sexual assaults are perpetrated by a non-stranger.”

Most victims feel that it’s their own fault because they were drunk, or dating the attacker, or flirting with them, or have had sexual relations with the attacker before.

But it is never the victims fault.

So let’s promote the understanding of this difficult topic and make it clear just what is “sexual consent” and what it is not.

If you’re a victim of sexual assault or know someone who is and is struggling,

Here are a couple help lines:

  • RAINN – 1-800-656-HOPE
  • Safe Horizon – 212-227-3000

 

And if you have any more questions concerning consensual sex, watch this amazing video:

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @BeccaTremmel

Stop it.

Don’t you dare message her on Facebook.

I know, you already “liked” her most recent profile picture.

And you “favorited” her tweet last night that was some quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Maybe you even got a little freaky and retweeted it.

Wait, did you swipe right on her tinder pic?

Well then she has to know you’re interested by now, right?


This is considered flirting nowadays.

But what if, hear me out, what if..

You just went up and asked her out on a date.

To dinner.

In person.

*earth shatters*

We live in a world where confrontation is our absolute last resort and instead of a guy walking up to a young lady and asking,

“Hi there, I noticed you from across the room and I was wondering if you’d like to get coffee with me some time?”

They send messages saying,

“U got kik?”

Stop it.


Now, don’t get me wrong. I know why confrontation is mortifying.

What if she says no?

What if she thinks you’re a creep?

It’s absolutely terrifying putting yourself out there and making the first move. Especially when you’re not behind a computer screen.

But I’m going to let you in on a little secret….

Girls want you to ask them out.

We want to be sitting alone in a coffee shop when you walk up to our table and tell us we look nice that day.

Because if we’re being honest we spent 30 minutes deciding if our hair looked okay up in a ponytail.

We want to be walking to math class when you stop us and ask, “Hey, would you like to get dinner with me next week?”

We actually fantasize about it all the time.

We don’t fantasize about getting random Facebook messages saying, “U hav a gr8 body wud u wanna hang sum time?”

No.

No I would not.


I get it, guys.

Being vulnerable was never a walk in the park.

But if we really think about it… what’s the worst that could happen?

She could say no.

….and that’s about it.

She’s not going to laugh hysterically in your face and tell everyone at your school that you’re a pathetic sicko until your life becomes a black hole filled with despair and tragedy.

Unless she’s a character from the movie “Mean Girls.”

Then run.


People used to go on dates

Or that’s what someone told me once.

I don’t know if I believe them.

Because dating today is nonexistent. We don’t dress up in nice clothes and take each other to fancy dinners. We don’t take walks around the park or buy each other ice cream cones before going to see that awesome new movie that just came out. We don’t make commitments. And we only make promises just to see how burned the other person will be once they break.

We don’t date.

Instead we go to each others’ houses and watch Netflix until someone makes the first move. We have dozens of almost relationships that we label as “things.”

People don’t commit anymore.

And then they randomly stop talking to you one day and you’re sitting there like an idiot thinking “What on earth did I do wrong?”

But they never promised they would stay.

And you didn’t either.

We walk away from each other because we never care enough to actually stay.

And then we bump into someone else who just got out of an “almost relationship”

And we do it all over again.

Just because we can.

Messed up, isn’t it?


Well we can change it.

By being brave and putting ourselves out there.

So how do you get the girl properly?

You ask her on a real date.

You tell her she looks really pretty in that blue dress.

You take her to a fancy dinner.

You respect her boundaries and don’t try to kiss her on the first date.

You ask her out again.

You buy her lavender ice cream.

You hold her hand down sidewalks.

And you only kiss her when you’re both comfortable with it.

That’s all there is to it.

And that, my friend is how you get the girl.

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @beccatremmel

 

P.S. a girl can absolutely ask a guy out on a date properly, too. And guys can ask guys. And girls can ask girls. So go out and catch yourself a bae.

 

 

 

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