the ones that got away

ph: david ryan + Lee Crutchley

a bridge

ph: Emma Hartvig

It’s odd how every year seems to go faster as you get older. Here I am, almost a year later feeling blind sighted by the entire 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days, 8765 hours, 525,600 minutes, and 31,556 seconds that made up this year. Amazing how you become a blip in someones life after they meant the world to you.

Sometimes I consider myself a bridge. I’ll meet a new guy and sometimes the very first time we’ll speak I’ll hear the sentence “you’re different than any other girl I’ve talked to before.” Something along those lines always seems to arise often in the course of the friendship, relationship, or simply conversation. It’s something I should be thankful for, a compliment, as some would say. But I’m tired of hearing it.

It’s not that I want someone to tell me that I’m exactly the same as the last girl they were with, or all my tendencies and quirks are that of similar people’s personalities. It’s that my relationships end for the same reason, not on bad terms, but simply general relationship problems. The reason for calling myself a bridge is because after they tell me for their first time that “I’m different than any other girl they’ve ever dated”, very soon after they find another girl, so similar to me in so many ways, and then stay with her for what feels like forever. I’m tired of that, when does someone lead me to a guy who stays with me?

After seeing this happen to me for the third time I sat and thought for hours, I thought about love and hate, and how they are indeed the strongest emotions, but they really are more similar than they are different.

I keep teetering between hate and love for the situation. They can be mistaken so often, but I never thought about it in that way before. I hate love, sometimes I wish I never fell in love, because I feel it’s an emotion that gives the human race something to strive for. The ultimate euphoria. It feels good only for a little, but takes work to keep up. So what’s the point? We work hard to get this feeling that everyone is dying to have and some people don’t even achieve. Even if you do it bites you in the ass on the way out. A final “goodbye” or what have you. Hate, on the other hand doesn’t do that. No one wants it and it doesn’t hurt you as much as love does. Hate burns people’s faces, love burns away dignity, pride, respect, trust. Hate doesn’t forgive, but it can forget. Love doesn’t forget, so it’s always there hurting you, tearing you apart, but love forgives.

I just needed to get this out there, I was then thinking about breaking up. How you’re never really fully over someone. When one person drops out of a relationship for whatever reason, the other is left out to dry. You’re out of sunlight, the wind isn’t blowing, and you’re on the ground. It’ll take forever to dry. So you don’t let go until someone else picks you up, pins you on the clothesline to feel the breeze and the sunlight.

I’m young, and also awful at getting over people. But I’m tired of dwelling. He’s my friend, a very good one at that. We loved each other. He loves his best friend now, but he still loved me. He loves me as a friend, and cares about me. Yes he was my first love, but it doesn’t mean he’ll be my last. I’m young, I’m flirty, I’m spontaneous, I’m goofy, I’m passionate, I’m determined, I’m strong, I surround myself with amazing friends, I have opinions, beliefs, ideas, thoughts, dreams, hates, loves, but for the past 3 years I’ve lost parts of myself every time I’m a bridge. This time I’m tired. No matter how many times I cry, how many times I scream and yell, how many times I don’t talk to people, it will still be there. It happened. I knew it was coming. So I guess it’s my turn to live.

thank my lucky stars

ph: The General Specific + Shana Murray

the memory of being loved

ph: margaret durow

I threw out the last of your things today. All of your letters, cards, and mementos are all gone now. That one last text that I had left in my inbox for months, telling me how much you loved me has finally been deleted. I haven’t actually looked at any of these things since the day you told me you didn’t love me anymore. They were more like ghosts. Things that haunted me, stuffed in drawers and closets, marking their territory as places I would have to avoid, unless I wanted to be reminded of what used to be.

The funny thing is, I never kept these things or clung to them because I believed you’d come back. I always knew better than that. I knew the moment you ended it that when you walked away you were walking away for good. And that moment will forever be engraved in my mind, in my heart, in my soul. I can’t shake it. It was like falling down a flight of stairs and landing on my stomach, having the breath knocked right out of me. It’s been five long months since that day. It took me five months to finally dispose of every last reminder of you because I was afraid. I was afraid that by getting rid of those memories that I would forget what it felt like to be loved like that. You fell out of love with me, and a part of me will probably always resent you for that. But at the time that those notes were written, those texts were sent, and those gifts were given, you were in love with me. And maybe it wasn’t the memory of you I was avoiding ridding my room of, but the memory of being loved wholeheartedly by someone.

Five months from the day my heart was given back to me in a million pieces, and I’m better now. I collected most of the pieces and put them back together. There’s just one little crack left, and I think that may always be there. The scar reminding me that I had a first love who I gave all of myself to. But I’m not bitter anymore, I’m free now; free to find someone to love me fiercely with everything they have. Free to find someone to love me the way I will love them.

i complete me

ph: Thomas van der Zaag + Debra Baxter

and be with him

ph: cassoday harder

My name’s Fanny, I’m a 27-year-old editor and I live in Northern Europe with the cutest, kindest and most faithful boyfriend a girl could dream about. We both seem happy with a dream job. I could easily spend my whole life with him. But in spite of the love I have for him, most of the time I feel like I’m living a live which isn’t mine.

A few months ago, I received a very cute Facebook request from a guy I met in Southern Europe during my year and a half international student exchange. Then my whole world fell apart. Accepting his friend request was the biggest fear and the highest joy of my life. Then I remembered.

Five years ago, I was a barmaid in a crowded bar when he entered the place with a friend we had in common. He instantly drew my attention, a rebel constantly dressed in black with Joy Division and Pixies tees. We started talking and I knew right away we had a lot in common. I felt he was the only passionate one I could trust and who could truly look into my eyes. I was listening to all kinds of anecdotes he could tell, being careful enough for him not to realize I was actually falling for him. It may sound crazy when you think about it, but I felt we “knew” each other already. At that time I was the only blond specimen among dark-haired local people; I was exotic. I could probably have had a chance with lots of people but, don’t ask me why, I never even dared to ask him out. “Guys like him never stand by themselves”, I thought. Mistake of the century.

Months passed. July came and I soon had to pack my bags and go back home. I planned a last night out to kiss everyone goodbye and there he was, in the middle of the crowd, unaware that I was actually going away until I told him. “This is my very last night here. I’m catching a plane tomorrow and I’ll probably never come back”. His face changed. He swallowed. “Then”, he said, “We absolutely have to go out together”. So we went out. We talked a lot, about books, movies and music, and modern romanticism, and his dream to be a librarian some day, and maybe write a book… A silent seduction insinuated itself and even now I swear I have never felt so close to anybody else. We spent breathtaking moments. He spent the night sharing his secrets with me and at dawn he tried to kiss me. I had waited for this moment for months and it was finally happening. And I turned my head away. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t want to suffer anymore. I was already thinking about the plane I had to catch the day after and I couldn’t stand the idea. He said he was sorry if he was pushing me, that it wasn’t his intention at all… God, if only he knew. If only he knew! Later I said I had to go to the bathroom. Truth is, I went there crying and I didn’t want him to notice. An hour later I found a pretext to lose him in the crowd and I was gone before he even realized. I had never felt like this before. I had spent pointless years waiting for true love and when it finally came to me, I had to let it go and there was nothing I can do. When I found a slight bit of passion I was catching a plane the next day and I now live in a state of permanent suspended chemistry.

When he found me again a few months ago we started talking and it was just as if our conversation never ended. So now I’m wondering, what am I going to do? He has no idea of what he provoked even if he remembers my last night just the way I describe it. We live 2500 miles apart but every day when I awake I just want to catch a plane and be with him. Some time ago I told him I was writing a book and he has no idea that he inspired me a lot to write about the male protagonist. I wonder what he would think about all this.

He’s passionate enough to wander through the net and catch this blog so, who knows?

I love you, bookworm.

love

ph: Marija Strajnic + simplyxalison

"Love: a single word, a waspy thing, a word no bigger or longer than an edge. That's what it is: an edge; a razor. It draws up through the center of your life, cutting everything in two. Before and after. The rest of the world falls away on either side."
-- Lauren Oliver, the author of Delirium
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after a long time apart

ph: Rowena Waack

Every time I see him after a long time apart I am struck by how solid he is—how real and colourful.

I marvel at the texture of his hair, of being able to run my fingers through it and fluff up his bangs. The depth of his gentle, blue-grey eyes. The warmth of his flesh. The comforting smell of his body, his clothes. The clearness and closeness of his voice, unadulterated by Internet connections and unfiltered by the reception of cell phones. How tall he is, how big—how he wraps around me when I move to embrace him and dwarfs me, encloses me.

I hold his hands again, view his feet—those adorable feet, wrapped in dark socks. As I interlock my fingers with his, our palms meet like old friends. The contours of his face—I had forgotten how nuanced they were, how fine. These details had faded from my memory after countless video conversations, where all I could see were his head and shoulders, a simple frontal view. Where the image is grainy and the audio lags. But in reality there are no delays in the conversation, except when he struggles with a sound--his characteristic stutter.

In person, after months of being so far apart, his fullness of being and his very real presence are striking.

How glad it makes me.

if you still love me...

ph: julie.lansom + xorsyst

to be free of you

ph: Kate Pulley

I can't quite remember your face anymore. But the mention of your name would still conjure up a feeling I can't quite express.To be honest, I did once think that you could be the one. But you certainly didn't mean it when you said you loved me. Nor did you mean it when you laid down with me. Was I just another one of your many virgin conquests or was I just another pit stop in that unlovable life of yours? Wait, hold. I don't want to know. You are not of my concern anymore.

Frankly, I don't feel for you anymore. I don't love you. I've moved on an am happy with my man. Yet, I still need an outlet to let my feelings go. I need to tell the world what I could not do anywhere else. I need to let go of a secret that has tied me to you. I don't need sympathy, I just don't want to keep quiet anymore. I want to be free of this burden. I want to be free of you.

Ladies and gentlemen please be my witness as I confess myself. Yes, I once did give up my pride and hang on to a relationship that could never work. You were selfish and arrogant but I was pregnant. It was your doing . You knew it. Yet all you could say was, "You don't have to keep it". Yes, you were a cruel man. I have no other way to go. My mother was under depression and you knew that at that moment that you were my all, but you deserted me. You had an affair while I was aborting my child. Yes, I aborted my child. I was a sinner and I was a fool. Dear lord, forgive me.

It took me long enough to heal, but today Mr. J, I am a woman with more pride and success than you could ever pin down on me. I am in love again and I shall no longer bear this burden. Ever. I don't know and I don't want to know anything about you anymore. You can live that selfish life of yours and lie to the world about what a bitch I was. You can wear a mask and fool the world. From this moment on, I am set free of the truth. I will no longer have to lie. I am whole again. I have loved ones to warm my life and a man that is faithful and loves me for all that I am.

I am loved and I shall love.

anything

ph: Silvio Luchetti + CShayR

love changes

ph: minezoo

I remember when everything between us was spine tingling and wet palms and making out and you gave me butterflies and I made you want to stay up all night just to talk to me.

And of course, they say, life can’t go on that way. You can’t be madly, passionately in love forever. So that love changes, it morphs.

It becomes the mundane. What we have now. The kisses hello and goodbye, the
compulsory “I love yous”, the lack of sexual excitement. But it’s only been 9 months. And yes, we’ve lived together for three of them and you haven’t had a job so I’ve been supporting us both….

But is this right?

Sometime I don’t know if I love you and that brings tears to my eyes because I think it means I don’t.

But you’re the very best person I’ve ever met in my life. Boys like you don’t exist. This perfect concoction of tough and sweet and endlessly patient.

And I’m so fucking sorry but I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

But I don’t know how I could ever be without you either.

i thought of you

ph: Lieke Romeijn + i.am.rebecca

don’t let a broken heart stop you

ph: aN ACciDenT

All relationships start with happiness and excitement and feelings that make you feel like you are on top of the world and give you butterflies in your stomach which sometimes make you feel sick of joy. But my relationship started differently, totally the opposite of those feelings. I hated him. He annoyed me he never made laugh or smile. I couldn’t stand being around him. We had the same group of friends. He was always there. He was always in his own world, didn’t really speak to a lot of people, but always had an opinion about everything and every time we spoke, the conversation ended up in an argument.

The days of school were coming to its end and the school prom was approaching faster. No date. Panicking. Stupid.

He was the first guy to ask me. I found it weird but something made me accept it. So I did. He came to pick me up at the house. Wow! Were my first thoughts. He had made such an effort to look good that I felt so happy to be by his side. Everyone was amazed to see us arriving together.

That was it. That night he made me fall in love with him. he told me that after all the arguments that we had he was actually learning things about me rather than hating me. He knew everything. He knew all my views on the world, the people. He knew I what I was passionate about. He even knew my favourite colour, music, traveling dreams. everything. I was amazed I also felt embarrassed.

Summer holidays started. Everyday I spent with him. we became friends, best friends. He told me he had a surprise for me. He covered my eyes and took me to the place. When I opened my eyes I couldn’t believe what I saw. He took me to a forest and decorated it with fairy lights, candles, music playing and food. It was like being in wonderland.

I loved it but I wasn’t sure why he was doing this. He told me. “iv loved you from the moment that I saw you, you’re an opinionated, weird bitch”. Those harsh words made me like him even more. Weird I know!. I said “why haven’t you told me this before” he said “ I don’t know. But if I did this wouldn’t have been so special”

Days, weeks, months went past of exciting little surprises. We were young. He made me feel like a princess. We did so many things together that to this day every song I listen to, every movie I watch, place that I visit, food that I eat, words that I hear remind me of him. New Years Day, The End. I fell in love just once. Did it have to happen with you.

2 years went by, we meet again. Older matured. Full of dreams. Dreams that we had together. 2 years later we plan to make those dreams come true. After months of heart broken tears. After months of happiness that I got over him I traveled I met new people I had fun . 2 years later I fell right back in love with him but its different. Something is different and it makes me feel so happy that every morning that I wake up I smile. I look forward to the day and also to the months ahead as we go traveling all over the world.

So this is my story. Hearts get broken all the time. People change for better or for worse. Heal you broken heart by being free. There is happiness out there. It may be with that same person or someone else. But don’t let a broken heart stop you from loving someone else. So be free. Love make love and be happy.


peace and love


lb x
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I want to thank you all for the well wishes, thoughts + prayers you sent me about my dad. This has been a crazy + surreal time for me, so it means the world to hear from you.

I love you guys + appreciate your support.

x