Dear Old Love
May 5, 2011 3 Comments
I love this book, and the sight. It’s anonymous little letters written by many people, to people that they either liked or loved. Some can be so general that you’d swear your ex-boyfriend wrote it about you. Others are so specific and heartbreaking. I picked out some choice posts for the past month and am putting them here, but if you want to read more go to http://dearoldlove.tumblr.com/
Sometimes I think about getting a ouija board to call up the old you.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Now you have my heart and my socks.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Just because I’m at your bar, doesn’t mean you have the right to look at me anymore.
Monday, May 2, 2011
I hope you fall desperately, deeply in love with someone else soon. Maybe with your spouse?
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Just in case you ever wonder, the answer is still no, I am not wearing any underwear.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
I need to stop Facebook-stalking you. It only makes me miss you (and dream about you) more.
Friday, April 29, 2011
I hate cherry Pop-Tarts. You’re going to come back to eat the ones in the cabinet, right?
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Thanks for making me regret losing my virginity to you.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Ever since I figured you have a thing for strippers I can’t help feeling like you are profoundly lonely. It’s better than the “total perv” conclusion.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Are you having a mid-life crisis yet? Hurry up already. I may be too old for you by the time you finally come around to it.
Monday, April 25, 2011
It gives me comfort knowing you’ll never date someone as artistically talented as me. I’ll always have that.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
If I don’t think of anything else, I think of you. Actually, there is nothing else on my mind. Thing is, I haven’t even met you yet.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
I would have loved you fffffforrrrrevvvverrrr.
Friday, April 22, 2011
I always found it cute, the way you held your coffee cup. I was waiting for a
special moment to tell you, but it never came.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
You’re no longer here to sing “London Bombs” to me as I fall asleep.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Not a day passes when I don’t think about how happy we could have been if you had been a man or I had been straight.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
My only means of knowing what’s happening in your life is by Twitter-stalking your husband.
Monday, April 18, 2011
You did a great job of making sure no small material scrap existed, on your end, to show that we were ever an item. For five years you never accepted any gifts, or trinkets, or letters. So how come I’m the one who questions whether it all really happened?
Sunday, April 17, 2011
At least I can still see parts of you in our son.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Ever since we met I’ve cared about your day, and would call you to ask about it. I have never stopped caring about your day.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Someday, when we’re talking again, you’re going to tell me where you learned to kiss like that.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
It’s probably a good thing that no one, including me, knows how often I dream about you.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
No one will ever understand why I love you, me included.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
I’ve been so sexually frustrated since you left. When I’m driving, I don’t see anything other than places I want you to make me scream.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Yes, I love you. Now please leave me alone.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
I want to give you one of those hugs where I envelop you with my jacket.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
The thing I miss about us the most is brushing our teeth together every night, and the tasty kisses that followed.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Sometimes I wonder who the hell writes these things—then I get drunk and write one myself.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
I loved how your voice would melt when you said you loved me.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
You blame our differences—a sober Mormon vs. a stoner atheist. I just blame you. It could have worked.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
I use the fact that there’s never been any closure as an excuse to keep missing you.
Monday, April 4, 2011
I try, but it’s hard for me to grasp the idea of love without desire.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
You complimented me exactly once: you called me “pretty.” What you don’t know is that in the art world, that means worthless.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
I just want the smallest sign that I shook your world even half as much as you shook mine.
Friday, April 1, 2011