Dear someone are letters I’ve written to someone, everyone, and no one in particular. Some of them are words written to help me through life struggles. Others are written to share feelings I lack the words to express. I share memories to myself, songs to no one.
Maybe one day I will shuffle the letters into a book and publish it. Or someone may find these and see how much pain I am working through. Even I don’t understand it all I find a strange comfort in writing letters. An art that used to be crafted with pen to paper, in fact i prefer that method. Most of these letters were first written that way. I hope you enjoy them.
Dear Someone -
I feel un loved. un wanted. re jected.
yes I know those are misspelled… especially rejected… but it was fitting with the tempo… now it just looks down right silly. but sounds right. Longing to find something in this world to give me a little bit of hope for something.
The tragedy of it all is I am loved. I am wanted. And being rejected, simply means that someone doesn’t want to spend time with me, so why would I want to spend time with them. Who I am is more valuable than someone’s lack of desire to spend time with me.
I have a son.
He loves me. His eyes light up so bright when he sees daddy for the first time in even just a short period. He loves spending time with me. He wants to be with me. He shows fear to the alternative, and joy when he’s home.
Yet I still feel un loved. Un wanted. and re ejected.
See how silly that looks. even auto correct decided to make it it’s own funny. I could correct it, but the show must go on, as they say. So it shall stay like this feeling that remains.
I have a family who loves me, friends who want me around. Some friends, not so much. They are still friends, yes. They don’t reject me, or not want me around, they have their own lives to deal with. I miss hanging out with some. Life is overwhelmingly busy sometimes. No matter how much you plan no matter how much you plot it can sneak up on you.
yet I still feel un loved. Un wanted. re jected.
Why do I still feel this way. It’s because I have such a lack of love for myself that I can’t feel past it. I look into the mirror tell myself that i’m a good man. that I’ve got a reason to get up and be proud. yet the feeling lingers. the toxicity of so much judgmental tones, and hurtful loss still festering the wounds that no one sees. The scars remain, me without the antidote to completely cure it. A part of me is scared to dig it all out, because It may mean revealing the truth of it. That I was a good man. That I am a good man. That I made mistakes, yes, but they weren’t all on me. That maybe the memories I have will fade into the truth of how we were. Leading to more tears of pain, and relief. Those memories interlaced with the good memories. ones I don’t want to lose.
One day I will not feel so un loved, un wanted, and re ejected. Fine… autocorrect… you win…
Thank you for reading this. I hope it reaches you and helps you. I’ve always said I’d love to use the pain and torment of my life to help others. if the words I write help you through what you are going through than my life has purpose. If it hit you right in the feelings and brought up memories long forgotten. I hope you see that those memories are always a part of you.