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Do you ever stop loving someone

Short answer.


Why would you if you loved them?

Everything inside of us says that we loved them for a reason.

Maybe a lot of reasons.

Maybe just one.

Well that’s not how love works.

Love doesn’t have a code or a book or a map.

It doesn’t care what we think.

Love is a driving force.

More than a feeling

It’s what causes hate to collapse.

It’s what makes wrongs feel right.

It’s destructive and healing.

It is what we need it to be.

But, it never leaves. It doesn’t go away.

When love is real it’s always going to be a part of you when you see that person or you feel the pain of their absence.

It’s meant to be there. You just have to know love well enough to handle all that it entails.

Love IS

It isn’t a thing.

It isn’t a place.

It isn’t a person.

It isn’t a time or a space.

It’s everything.

And, when you realize who you are and what you’re capable of, love, it’s YOU.

The purpose everyone is looking for.

It all starts and ends in the same spot.

It all gives and gets there too.

It’s you.


Everything you’ve wanted.

Everything you’ve given.

They meet and share a place.

And the two just sit down and sigh because they have been there so long without being noticed.

The day the needs of others and of our selves and the things given freely meet, you’ll know, it was always coming from you.

From a place unseen and an emotion rejected frequently.

From love that’s always been there.

From you.

The type of people who do the most damage are the exact type who don’t apologize.

If you’re waiting for them to apologize in order to heal, you will never heal.

They do the most damage.

They’ll have the most excuses.

They justify.

They make you believe it’s your fault.

All you can seek is revenge in absence of their apology. Or an absence of emotion from yourself.

And you dont want revenge.

The best revenge is to do well.

To be well.

To walk by them smiling.

To be unaffected.

Then they begin to question their own strength and deviate from their script.

Then you’ve affected them. And maybe for the better.

Youve made them uncomfortable. But, the discomfort improves them if they allow it.

And it comes from you improving yourself and decreasing YOUR discomfort.

It’s a real Win win. The best kind.

Don’t lash out if you can help it.

Don’t ask for a loving gesture from those who’ve shown their deep and well practiced hate.

Just continue to be well in spite of them as soon as you can muster wellness.

They’ll eventually catch YOUR disease of good.


Here is what I would say to those contemplating as this has become an overwhelming risk for life…
1. Your pain is real. You aren’t imagining it or making it up. Human beings can’t make up emotions. We can feel them or learn to control them but we cant manufacture them insincerely. You feel terribly and you’re not “imagining it” or being “dramatic”.
2. Maybe you’ve felt this way for days, months, years. But, you won’t always feel this way. Find hope in things people forget to see. Blades of grass. The sweet smell of the summer wind. A cold blast of wind in the winter that sends shimmering flakes of snow swirling around you. Taste each moment. Stop thirsting for a perfect future. No one gets one of those.
3. Whatever you’ve done, you can fix it or find a way to get past it. Nothing is irredeemable. Nothing is unforgivable. A truly good person will find a way to at least let you live in the peace of your improved persona and lifestyle. Anyone who wants you to live in their resentful idea of the horror you should suffer for what you’ve done to them doesn’t deserve your perpetual pain.
4. The world is NOT better off without you. You are here because you were meant to play a part. Play it. Play it until your end comes naturally. And taking your own life is not natural. Not because it goes against any law but because we are meant to protect our own lives by nature. We are meant to protect ourselves because, without outside influence, we are born to know we are valuable. That’s why we jump and scream when we are scared. That’s why our hearts beat without thinking. We may be unable to breathe sometimes because of the chemical imbalance of our brains or trauma that’s gone unresolved but we always end up catching our breath. Our bodies want to live, even when our brains don’t. And they’re meant to work together for a reason.
5. Wait on that impulse. Many times we get in to a bad moment and we think we have to do something about it RIGHT NOW because it’s overbearing and unbearable to the point that we physically suffer. Breathe on it. Sit on it. Write on it. Talk on it. Do not act on it. Many of us who have felt like ending it have thought about ending it before. And we didn’t. And we got a little better. Imagine if you allowed yourself to extend those times a bit longer. How much better could you get if you strengthened your resolve to live? if you refuse to die just one more time, no matter how loudly your brain calls for you to end it all? A LOT stronger. A lot
6. People around you may not understand. But, someone out there can, at the very least, empathize. Only the ones who’ve found it easy to fit in and blend can say that they feel natural camaraderie wherever they go. They may be the majority, but, you are the extraordinary. CHOOSE TO BE EXTRAORDINARY!
7. Reach out. Speak your pain. Anonymously. In person. Online. However you have to. Giving a bit of it all to someone else isn’t a burden. You may find others actually enjoy helping people get through these things. I know I love to be on that end as opposed to the other. It gives me a sense of service to others.
8. Speaking of service to others… Be of service in any way you can. It makes it hard for your demons to devalue you if you’re out there doing any good you can possibly do.
9. Don’t think for a second that you can’t do this. You can. You have. You will. And maybe, someday, you won’t have to anymore. I know that for a fact as a person who has found contentment amidst troubles. Troubles I could’ve only conquered BECAUSE of my difficult past.
10. Finally.
Death isn’t an end to suffering. Maybe you think your family will be better off without you. Or that your kids would be. Or that no one loves you so you may as well stop living. Someone loves you. Maybe you don’t see it. Maybe you don’t “know” it. It’s hard to “know” someone loves you if your brain refuses to register the feeling of love. No amount of proof of love would be able to make a mark in that brain. The beast of depression took over and told you that you’re not needed here and that the people YOU love would be better off if you were gone. But, if you pull that trigger or swallow those pills or whatever form of death you inflict upon yourself, all of the pain you feel just gets placed on another person’s shoulders. Or off into the negative energy of this world. Choose to protect your loved ones against your brain’s current maladies. Choose to be more than what anyone thought you capable of. Choose to live. To get help from credible sources when needed. Don’t pass it on. PUT IT on and wear it like a shield. Protect the world against what you WILL conquer if you choose to live step by step and day by day until you reach the point where you can say, “I wanted to die. So many times. But, I refused to give up or give in. I want to help my fellow man. I grew up and out. Here is how you get better.”❤️❤️❤️❤️

But when you hit the end and say nobody knows and I’m all on my own, you better make sure that’s true.

Go forth and become.

To become what you’re destined to be you must think bigger than your current identity.

We get comfortable.

We get stuck.

Years later we find out that we already knew we didn’t belong.

Brains are funny that way.

Most of the convincing that “I’d be ok” was done from within.

There was always a voice in my head that was saying, “This isn’t right. This isn’t you. This isn’t where we should be.”

Then, there was an even quieter voice that said, “This isn’t you. This isn’t it.”

Then, I’d go further.

The echoes of self talk are real. It’s what we are made of when the voices and opinions of people who don’t really know us stop echoing in our brains as if they’re more important.

We know we.

I know me.

I will always be grateful for parents that entertained their obnoxious child on her quest to be the mostest of me’s.

“Why is this like this, dad?”

“Why do I have to do that, mom?”

Every question came with an answer.

Even if that answer was entirely made up. (Dad)

(I grew up before Google did)

So what? Dad made up answers and mom couldn’t negotiate a treaty with me when we’d battled it out?

They tried.

And their acknowledgement that my thoughts meant enough…

Enough to be answered…

Well… that was enough to give me the confidence to keep asking.

Keep wondering.

Keep pushing. (Buttons)

Keep being the one who asks all the questions.

Many years and many attempts to be less of a problem to humanity than I was to my parents who, so lovingly, entertained my personality, I found that, in being what society wanted, I had hurt them both.

So, back to basics.

Back to me.

Back to that voice they let grow and that person they taught to be proud.

That me they let me be.


Happiness through the regret and the grief.

All they ever wanted

All I ever needed

All I was ever supposed to be

Was me.

What I had started with.

Who I knew I was.

That’s who I will always be internally.

And that’s never going to change.

It’s going to get better.






Always asking.

Always being a part of the question

Always being exactly who I was designed to be…

Angel or demon

I lived with monsters once.

I had come to them to free them.

But they said I was a demon.

I was an angel dressed in black.

I was dressed so they could see me.

In the darkness and their loathing.

But my wings, they were too soft.

And their teeth, they were too gnashing.

They could’nt feel my words in their tone.

So I raised the pitch a bit higher.

Then they’d bark and bite and beat me.

So I learned their bitter language.

But I stayed there dull and floating.

I’d blend, and bend, and break some.

But, the longer I stayed learning,

the more they learned to hate me.

They learned a bit of my song.

I learned to fight their clawing.

We came to an agreement.

Then I learned, there’d be no winning.

Either I would have to stay with them,

or they would have to transcend.

But, they would not give up their darkness.

And I could never descend.


Time to shake loose from fear.

Fright that doesn’t have reason attached that holds me to the ground I’m sinking into.

I’ve been standing here, this way, too long.

The logic that I’ll be ok over there is present, but it fights with the feelings that remind me I wasn’t ok a few steps back.

Guilt or shame followed me.

Insecurity traveled along on my back.

Intellectually, I know, I’m ok.

I’ve done nothing wrong.

I’m normal.

Could be exceptional if I let myself be.

If I tried.

But, the fear. It holds my wrists at my side and punches holes in my sense of security.

It grabs my ankles and trips me if I try to move.

The fear wants me to stay where I am when every other part is ready to go.

The brain is on board.

The behaviors have evolved.

I’m not that person and I’m not in that place.

Why did these fears follow me here?

Why can’t I think them away?

I suppose old learned emotions, and reactions, and instincts, aren’t as susceptible to thoughts or proof.

I don’t want to fear that thing anymore.

I don’t want to fear that person.

I don’t want to fear my small mistakes when others would barely regard them as such as others makes mistepsuch larger and are hardly saddled with an inkling of guilt.

Do I drag?

Do I crawl?

Do I cleave off the limbs so firmly cemented in this stagnant soil?

I certainly won’t wait for someone to free me.


Do I leap from my skin?

Do I crawl from the shell those bad things are clinging to and crush it?

Do I emerge and fly forward to where they can’t reach me?

There’s no place for me there.

I belong elsewhere.

So I’ll unshackle myself with the faith I’ve found.

Not in the Earth or the sky, but in me.

And I’ll go free.

Losing the spark

I’ve lost confidence entirely. Can I write? Can I tell stories that interest people?

I’ve been doing it my entire life. It’s been my only real dream.

But, sometimes, the brain rebels.

Doubt seeps in.

It rarely has to do with ability.

Most often outside circumstances gum up the wonderous works.

Can I do this?

Should I even try?

What if I’m not good enough?

What if my friends and family were just boosting my ego when they said I could?

What if the strangers who complimented me just wanted something from me?

Has the praise been honest?

Do I have the dedication?

Can I do it all? The day to day expectations along with this dream I’ve been hiding?

What do I do?

How do I do it?

In a field that relies soley on what comes out of your mind…

No deadlines.

No guidance.

No format.

Just you.

The “on your own” industry.

Am I strong enough?

When the flow and flair are raging up above, it feels possible. Feels probable. Feels inevitable.

Then the slump.

The hump.

The void created by external chaos and lack of confidence blocks all original emotional outpourings.

It all just stops.

There’s nothing there anymore.

Where did it all go?

Months ago I couldn’t sleep because my mind wouldn’t stop producing.

I would lift my head, half asleep, and jot.

5 times.

10 times.

20 times.

Until morning…

Now there is nothing to be extracted by force.

What happened?

Can I do this?

The answers are undoubtedly internal.

No one has ever been able to bring me back to life.

That. Well, that. Thats an inside job.

So now what?

I guess I have to dig deeper.

Find the gear that’s sticking.

Fix it near the clock that’s ticking.

I have to find myself in there.

That’s the trouble.

That’s the issue.

It all just works when I’m inside and not out.

When the outside is just noise.

When the world is just a racket.

When I’m me and it is it.

I guess I’ve got it.

I’ve solved it.

Here we go again on our own.

Ocean eyes

Her soul longed for the sea.

Her heart longed for him.

She knew she had to choose and she knew the sea could never break her heart. So, why was she so confused? So torn between the two? She knew better. She knew not to let her guard down and yet, she did.

Against her better judgement she let him in. A little at a time until it was too late. She fancied him, she cared for him. She looked forward to hearing his voice. To seeing his smile. To his hand finding hers as they walked along the beach.

To the feeling of his arms wrapped around her at night and his kisses waking her up in the morning.

How long could she go without these simple pleasures she’d become so used to going without and had now grown so accustomed to?

Would these cravings pass?

She had traveled the world. Seen more than most could dream of seeing in one life time. Yet, she longed for nothing more than to stare into his piercing green eyes.

They reminded her of the ocean she loved so much. Innocent and intriguing; dangerously inviting at the same time. A perfect mixture of green and blue that could only be created when the sun kissed the top of the ocean at exactly the perfect depth along the shoreline. A color only nature could create. A color that could never quite be capture in a photo, but one that, once experienced, it could never forgotten.

Whether it was sailing the Caribbean…


or off the coast of New Zealand…

It’s a color that is forever with you.

She could be miles from the sea and the shorelines that she had soaked in. The shores of that color, she had soaked in, countless times, and when she looked into his eyes, it was like she was there again.

Exactly where she needed to be.

She knew Her time was running out but, she said nothing.

Why couldn’t she just tell him how she felt that night on the beach?

Why was it so hard for her to express her feelings? To discuss her emotions? To let him in on all the secrets of her life he had longed to hear?

She needed to think, to clear her head, to wander, to write.

Deep down (as it always did) something told her to do what she did best; run.

So she booked a ticket, packed a bag, and left. After all, she was used to being alone…

But, when does it come to a point where one becomes tired of traveling alone?

Did she make a mistake? If so, which one?

Was the leaving the mistake or was it never telling him what he really meant to her?

Was it letting him in, in the first place?

Would she return to him?

Would he want her to come back?

When could she see him again?

Would he be waiting for her like he said he would or were they just sweet little lies that he knew she wanted to hear?

Would she eventually just fade out of his life?

Did he care for her like she cared for him?

When could she gaze once more into those ocean eyes?

Was she his “for now” or was she “his forever”?

The questions swirled in her head like the rip tides of her lovely ocean. Dragging her down, and out, and deeper than she wished to go.

The answers would be as unsteady and illusive.

I suppose,

she just needs to ride the wave.

(Written by Andrea)