In memoriam: His Majesty King Harald V of Norway, 1937–2026. King of Norway from 1991. Died 28 August 2026. Norway is in national mourning.
In memoriam
Harald Rex, 21 February 1937 to 28 August 2026
King of Norway from 17 January 1991 until his death, aged 89. He was the oldest reigning monarch in Europe.
King Harald V died on the morning of Friday 28 August 2026, at 06:35, with his family around him. He had been king for 35 years. Norway is now in a period of national mourning and the flags are at half mast. Messages Never Seen is built and run from Norway, and for a lot of us he is the only king we have ever had.
Prince Harald was born at Skaugum in Asker on 21 February 1937. He was the first prince born on Norwegian soil in 567 years. The last one was Olav Håkonsson, who became king in 1380. His father was King Olav V, his mother was Crown Princess Märtha, and his grandfather was Haakon VII, the king Norway elected in 1905.
He was three years old when Germany invaded on 9 April 1940. At Elverum he was separated from his father, and he was evacuated with his mother and his sisters Ragnhild and Astrid, first to Sweden and then to Pooks Hill in Maryland, where the family stayed for the rest of the war. He came home to Oslo on 7 June 1945 with his grandfather, to crowds that filled the streets.
He became Crown Prince at twenty, when Haakon VII died in 1957, and he took the throne on 17 January 1991 after his father died. He kept the motto his father and grandfather had used before him: Alt for Norge, All for Norway. He and Queen Sonja were consecrated in Nidaros Cathedral on 23 June 1991, a ceremony no other monarchy in Europe holds.
He changed a lot about how the monarchy worked. The palace budgets were made public, the press was let closer to the family than ever before, and he held to the line that his children could choose who they married. In Kiberg in 1992 he gave the speech that rehabilitated the Norwegian partisans who had fought on the Soviet side in the war, still counted as one of the most important speeches of his reign. When floods and avalanches hit, he went and stood with the people they hit.
“Alt for Norge.”
The motto he took from his father and grandfather, and kept for 35 years.He sailed at three Olympics: Tokyo in 1964, where he carried Norway’s flag at the opening, Mexico City in 1968 and Munich in 1972. He kept racing long after that. He won the One Ton world championship at Kiel in 1987 in Fram X, a fiftieth birthday present from Norwegian business, and took bronze in San Francisco the year after. In 2005, at sixty-eight, he won the European championship in offshore sailing in Fram XV. He won eight royal cups, took the Holmenkollen Medal in 2007, and was made an honorary member of the Norwegian Olympic and Paralympic Committee in 2025.
He was admitted to Rikshospitalet on 17 August 2026 with fluid retention, a side effect of the cortisone treatment for haemolytic anaemia, and was signed off for two weeks. A week later the sick leave was extended with no end date, and a bacterial infection was found in his blood. On 27 August the palace said his condition was very serious. The family gathered, and ministers, bishops and the President of the Storting cut their trips short. He died the next morning, one day before his and Queen Sonja’s 58th wedding anniversary.
This site is for the things people never got to say, so it would be strange to say nothing today.
Messages Never Seen is developed in Norway. During the mourning period state institutions fly the flag at half mast, and councils and county authorities have been asked to do the same.
“Alt for Norge” All for Norway
You were the king for every single day of my life. Thank you for spending yours on us. Hvil i fred.
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Messages Found: NaN
I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, truly. The double standard just really perplexed me. Especially considering we were the closest, I thought?
I hugged all my friends. It wasn't like I only wanted to hug you romantically. It was just how I had always shown affection to people.
Do you know how much it confused me that you wouldn't hug me, but then went on to make out with all your other friends? I felt so confused and gross.
I thought if someone else brought up the elephant in the room, you would be more inclined to finally address it, clearly. Course, that never happened.
Whenever she assumed we were together, it made me happy. I'm sorry if it never made you happy. Validating, to know my love was real, it could be seen.
I will forever love you autumn even if I dont show it I wish it could have been us, call me again sometime
I hope you have a nice list too. That your boxes are ticked. You deserve that. I hope you always know that you deserve that. Doesn't have to be harsh.
I want someone who I can have an endless conversation with, can hug, can cry in front of & with, can sleep next to, can learn from, can grow with.
A lava pool that we keep falling into, only to respawn and repeat, like we're in Minecraft with keep-inventory, no closer to the End, stuck in Nether.
People aren't puzzles, we evolve too much. Some pieces can never be put back once we lose them. The worst feel like a labyrinth with a lava pool.
The best romances are ones that feel like an endless, engaging campfire conversation. The worst feel like a puzzle that you can't find the pieces to.
The best friendships aren't the ones you feel drawn to like a moth to a flame, but the ones that are built up slowly, like a campfire, over time.
My current best friend has shown me that friendship can be energizing, peaceful, and supportive in a way I never knew before. I wish I knew it before.
We aren't compatible, it's insane to me, in hindsight, how long we were friends. I didn't know that I could have more compatible friendships.
Even at our best, I could never truly visualize being with you. Our friendship was always on shaky ground, even at its best.
Some people struggle to fall asleep around the people they're in love with out of anticipation, but that wasn't it, with you. It was just you.
My body physically rejects the idea of being vulnerable with you, personally. It knows it's not safe. It's why I struggled to fall asleep around you.
I wanted you to want to protect me the same way I wanted to protect you. I wanted you to want to bring me peace the same I wanted to bring you peace.
Made it hard to discriminate the many truths that make up you. I didn't trust you, truly. But I also didn't trust myself. I clung to you, blurrily.
I'm not saying everything was your fault. That's highly improbable. But I do know that my loyalty to you made it hard to discriminate the truth.
Gives you a thrill, and it makes me sick. I should've been focused on myself, and yet I was focused on helping you out of situations you drove into.
I used to think that drama found you, but now I know that you reach for it, that you feel like you need it. I hope you've grown out of it. Old habits.
You love drama, and drama loves you. I used to think you wanted protection from it. To outrun it. But I think high school proved otherwise.
I know how much you value that. Someone who can look past everything and be loyal to a fault. I'll never be that to you again. To anyone, hopefully.
He suits your vibe. Sometimes I wonder if I ever did. Why you even stayed friends with me for so long. My loyalty to you above everyone, perhaps?
Sometimes I wonder if I left my sanity in that Perkins, with you, at 12 years old. It's never been safe to trust you with my sanity, or yours.
You influenced me when we were kids. I wouldn't have had such a dirty mouth and mind if you didn't introduce it to me. I don't regret that, it's fun!
You didn't take care of me when I needed you to, at that concert. A stranger showed me more kindness. I would've taken care of you, if it'd been you.
Maybe you're immune to the nostalgia. Maybe you don't think of me at all at these locations. Maybe your memory loss is stronger than mine. Your will.
Reminds me of years ago when I checked, and you had gone to a concert at the same venue. I used to wish I would see you in the city, at concerts.
I was weak and checked your Instagram. You went there with him. I hope you had fun and didn't think of me much. Bittersweet. I miss there, with you.
I don't remember what kind of presents or cards I used to give you. I hope you liked them, though I don't have a ton of faith in myself from then.
You brought me a little moose from Alaska. I have cried over that before. Cause who does that? That's so sweet. Ugh. I wonder if you've gone back?
It's silly, but I've talked to that little moose you got me, from Alaska, I think, many times, when I've particularly missed you a lot.
It felt so wrong though, to leave without saying that. I didn't think you wanted to hear it from me, though. It haunted me on the way home and after.
Seeing you walk across that stage, I could only be happy for you. Seeing you happy, with your family, afterwards, I could only be happy for you.
It killed me that our parents talked to us but we didn't talk to each other. It killed me that she hugged me. I'm so proud of you, Autumn. Really.
It never amounted to anything tangible. I didn't show up to your doorstep, alone. I didn't answer you. I didn't congratulate you at grad.
Of course my knowing that you had loved me didn't change how we interacted, or the lack thereof. But it lit me on fire. I thought about it constantly.
And having such undeniable confirmation that you had loved me really changed how I viewed it all. It became so much more real. I was a bit bewildered.
It had been so long that I had almost convinced myself that I hallucinated any sign of you ever having feelings for me, and yet, there it was, clear.
You had a lover and a best friend? I'm all the good things that you miss? I chose you. I hope the guilt doesn't eat you alive, someday. I was so open.
Suddenly, I KNEW I was a person you had fallen for. Someone you used to love, you thought? There was a song mentioning that trip, when I came out.
It had already been one of the worst times in my life, and then I found playlists mentioning me. I was not expecting that. It confirmed what I felt.
Finding your Spotify 44 months ago was unexpected. I was bored, looking through my friend's following, and then their friends'. Then, there you were.
I don't know if it was right before or after we ended, but I was away at a friend's cottage. I was completely alone in my room, and playing it still.
I wonder if that song reminds you of me because I would keep it on repeat, in my ears, whenever I slept over, cause you needed the TV on.
You loved me more when I stopped trying so hard to be good, except for when I stopped trying to be good for you, above all else. You hated that.
You had so much energy. So much more than me. You brought the silly out of me, you scratched the squeaky clean version of me.
You used to steal my phone and take hundreds of selfies with a double chin to annoy me. I miss your antics in my basement. It looks different now.
A sprint where you beat me, by a hair. You were definitely the more athletic one, Ms. Gymnastics. So much of the time, right before grief, is blurry.
I don't even have a clear memory of us going from friends to best friends. I think you used to remind me that we first met during a school sprint.
I miss your dining table, trying not to laugh over the prayers. Getting right back to our inside jokes. Rainy windows. Being vegetarians together.
I wonder which one of us broke more pinky promises. I hope we broke them evenly. I feel guilty for forgetting them all. And so much of us, and me.
What I really yearned for, was to be a normal guy, with normal feelings for a girl. But I wasn't that, was I? Not to other people, and not to you.
Like I couldn't be a girl, right. Someone he would really love if he knew me, although I felt that with you. I don't know. Maybe adolescence is harsh.
Maybe if I had fallen in love with a boy best friend, it wouldn't have felt so harsh. Or maybe it would've made me feel wrong, differently.
I felt so guilty for liking girls. It felt more disgusting than liking boys. Felt like just the fact of liking them made me bad, gross, untrustworthy.
I wish I had written more about it then, but I felt guilty for doing so. I always have. Maybe that would've changed if you were more open about yours.
Sometimes the breadth of feelings I had for you, at such a young age, shocks me. I should've been knee-deep in puppy love, and yet, there was you.
Or maybe it's knowing that you never remained gentle with me when I disappointed you. That you are harsh. That you would tell me I'm guilty. Maybe.
Maybe it's being raised Catholic that makes me feel like I deserve a biblical punishment for a figment of my imagination, my subconscious.
I think the idea of treating yourself like you would a best friend is a great idea. But it is so hard to achieve in practice. It's hard to be gentle.
I feel like I need to punish myself for dreams like those. I feel guilty, towards myself and you. I wouldn't feel that way if a friend had them.
Maybe it's just the number of times I've listened to Garden Song by Phoebe Bridgers. Whatever the content of the dream, the morning is always harsh.
Or leave a message for you. You thought I didn't want you, but I did. Probably a metaphor for the times I never spoke back to you, when you tried.
Last night, we were in school, somehow. You put your hand on my thigh, as a confession. I melted, of course. It got contorted, I couldn't find you.
Usually I never get to bask in us being okay, or being loved by you, for long. The morning is so harsh. As are my feelings towards my subconscious.
Usually, you're a bit softer, and nicer, in my dreams. It seems like things may be okay between us, and you may even love me too. But then I wake up.
I wonder if you ever dream about me, still, or ever. 4 years ago, I used to dream about you all the time. Now, it's pretty rare. Last night I did.
I know I would never be your sole first love. Sometimes feels embarrassing, knowing you were mine, but it's ok. It was always ok, even when it hurt.
First love is such an ugly, desperate, beautiful, monstrous, insecure, innocent, thing. If you did love me, I wonder if you consider me one of yours.
It never felt like a choice. Having feelings for you. They just, were. And if you had let it happen, I would've been just like Jack, ironically.
Maybe a part of why it reminds me of you at all is because I wouldn't have figured my sexuality out for a while if it weren't for you making me laugh.
Ennis is riddled by so many regrets, and I never want to end up like that. And sometimes it all feels like it should have been simpler, posthumously.
I watched Brokeback Mountain, for the first time, around graduation, when I was thinking of you all the time. It made me think of what I would regret.
I think I also always longed for a drunk text, or call. Text. My phone number never changed, but I hardly picked up, and you were not so careless.
I wonder if my voice has mostly faded from your memory as yours has from mine, and I wonder if that ever upsets you, as it does me.
Fact that we were always a bit of a natural disaster. Fact that there was never a safe conflict. Fact of the first love. Fact of a once familiar face.
Whenever I see you around, these days, I still feel a panic, mind-blank, rush of blood to my cheeks. But it's not desperate, just a matter of fact.
Knowing you were in the same town, but never again, in the same room as me, used to keep me up at night. It's crazy what a couple years can do.
It is such a youthful assumption. And it consumed me. It should never be that hard, if it's real, and alive. But we weren't alive, and we hadn't been.
I thought maybe if we ran into each other, outside of school, away from anyone else, who didn't matter a fraction as much, we would talk and be okay.
I used to desperately hope I would see you, whenever I left the house. It made my heart race and my body feel sick. That desire is slowly leaving.
It is so bittersweet whenever I look back on photos where I can see the love in my eyes, and in yours, I think. That you saw how I looked, in love.
I remember how excited you were to get those Vans. And how much I loved you on that day. And how it showed in the photos we took together.
It feels sacrilegious to inscribe our inside jokes on this website, so I won't. I must remember at least half of them, though. I hope I do.
Pop in your basement was never a good idea. Or video games too late into the night. Hoping you would kiss me. Your TV, forever on. Earbuds, on repeat.
And I cannot wish for myself to get better without hoping that you are, too. That we all are. I will always be hoping for that. And a better world.
I do not need to hate you or be completely. indifferent to move on. I just need to let myself get better, after a lifetime of struggling, altogether.
I am not someone who desires to completely change myself and reinvent. I desire to grow into myself, to mold, to water, to stabilize, to be happy.
I think, even when I do, I will think fondly of you, because you were a part of my life for so long. That will always be a small part of me.
I think the beauty of saying these things is that it is fleeting. I will fall deeply in love and not feel the desire to write like this. Wistful.
Last time I ran into her, she recalled a memory of you running up my stairs excitedly. I cannot remember that in my own head. It is so bittersweet.
I finally took down that pride flag you got me, about a year ago, and got one of my own. A bisexual flag this time. It was bittersweet.
I wonder if my house haunts your memory the same way your house haunts mine. Hard to imagine my house being an escape the way yours was for me.
I remember there was an outdated book in your basement and I would find the word transsexual in it and just stare at it.
I think I did not think it was possible for you to crush on me as a guy, or even want me as a best friend if I came out. I was insecure and scared.
But, I did kind of want to be your girlfriend, if I had to be subjected to being a girl. Not as much as I wanted to be your boyfriend, though.
It was complicated. The only way I could semi fit myself into being a girl was being a girl who liked girls. When you left, that fell away some more.
The older I get, the more I realize that that was more-so because I could not accept myself, as a guy. The thought of a guy liking me as a girl. Ick.
There was a time where I could not imagine myself being able to love a guy as deeply as I loved you. Really stumped me for a while, sexuality-wise.
All those songs I loved, I thought I knew them when I was with him, laughably, but he was not my first love, you were, and the songs became about you.
For a long time, I detested spring, because it only brought forth feelings of grief. But I think, more unbiasedly now, it may be my favourite.
I had known that I liked you, for sure, for maybe 3 months before that? Winter was my favourite season as a kid, and then I met you. I jest, but true!
It was slushy winter outside when you coaxed the fact that I had a crush on you out of me. That should have been an omen, perhaps?
Selfishly, I hope I am still the friend you made laugh the most and hardest. Not really, I hope you have lots of that in your life. Just a bit. Okay?
You could make the most mundane setting, for example, a parking lot, a place to half-collapse in laughter.
I used to love the ways our names sounded together when someone said them in a sentence. I liked being your partner in crime, crime of silliness.
Whether I am writing to you, now, the you I remember, a memory of you, or who I wanted you to be. I am trying to be honest. Okay? Not nice or mean.
I feel guilty writing those second last couple messages, considering what I wrote last time. It is complicated. You know that. You have felt that.
I still have a horrible, and I really do mean HORRIBLE attempt at slime-making in a container with our names on it in my basement. Circa 2018. Wild.
Bold of me to assume that losing me would affect you anywhere near as much as losing you would, me. We already lost each other, but this is worse.
I hope you never see these, kind of. Unless you somehow lose me. If you ever do, I hope you see these and know you were loved by me, albeit messily.
Laughing with you sort of felt like my soul was actually clean, for once. A proper baptism, a better sacrament. I miss the hiccups you always gave me.
Sometimes you feel like a figment of my imagination. Sometimes everything does. Do you feel that way, ever? It feels so unsteady.
The thing about being raised Catholic is that you think you may have a saviour. Or you think you may be a saviour to someone. False. Impossible.
I wanted to understand you. Maybe not fully. Or maybe fully. And I wanted you to want to understand me. Maybe not fully. Or maybe fully. I dont know.
Do you ever feel completely alone in this world, like no one could or will ever fully understand you? How do you keep going, anyway? I wish I knew.
The name you called me is still written under my bed with smiley faces. I cannot remember which one of us drew what.
I just feel like if either one of us was truly seeing the other, if would have never ended like that. But whatever. Bygones. Well and true bygones.
Why should I be ashamed to comprehend my own feelings just because you might never be able to? I should not. So I will not.
That is the thing about codependency, and pedestals. You cannot truly see each other, know each other, love each other. Maybe. That is a tragedy.
And these messages are honestly just me talking to myself because I doubt you would be able to comprehend them, ever. I guess I have to accept that.
Even if I never loved you, I am grateful for this, sometimes annoying, softness I have. I am glad I cannot hate you, even if I also cannot love you.
Sometimes I really wish you could feel it the way I do for a bit and understand it. Maybe then you would stop judging me forever. Maybe you stopped.
Maybe I already feel like that, but I do not know what else to call it. Young, queer, mentally messed up, codependent, messy feelings? Who knows.
I wonder if one day, when I am happily in love again, my understanding of it will change and I will feel that I was never in love with you at all.
The thing is that, I cannot ever be just indifferent to you and nonchalant because I cannot be that way about anything, and it annoys me sometimes.
Maybe it is my fault for refusing to see you clearly, and dreaming a softer version of you who loved me more. But I doubt you saw me clearly either.
Half of my rumination is that I cannot understand you and your actions. It is not because I find you naturally compelling.
How can I blame you or judge you when I do not know what it is like to be you, though? That never seemed to stop you, though, did it?
I wonder if I bore you just the same. Who knows. I wish I could have spent this much time ruminating over someone I am genuinely interested in.
You are not the one I want to listen to ramble on forever. To teach me new things. To share anything profound with. And that is bittersweet to say.
During the times I see you as clear as possible, you do not particularly captivate me, interest me, or intrigue me. You honestly bore me, deeply.
Unfortunately I think I may be more in love with my own feelings for you than I ever was with you. #Whoops but also #Bless
While I see myself in both Will and Mike, it's funny. You're the artist and I'm the writer, even if I see myself more in Will, most of the time.
I wonder if they reminded you of us, as well. That's not at all the only reason I'm interested in their dynamic, but these are messages for you.
Four summers ago I realized how much they reminded me of us. I had wanted you to be my Mike, to guide me, to protect me, to spend Halloweens with.
You know the scene of Will crying in the van? That's how it felt leaving for that trip with you, in the car. My feelings for you were so tender.
I came out to her because I assumed that after you said you reciprocated my crush, that meant we'd get together. We were best friends. Naive. Young.
It's no one's fault that their world didn't end when mine did. Except maybe, my other parents. Not yours. But I felt so different from you all.
When it happened to me, I wanted to be able to make sure no one else that I knew ever felt like that. That's impossible. I wanted to be understood.
I don't blame you all. We were kids. Kids aren't supposed to know about that. And you all weren't supposed to know your own struggles. I didn't know.
Who can understand the grief of losing your favourite parent barely 3 months into being 12? Not many people. I felt so alone. You all didn't feel it.
When we were younger, I took everyone else's issues more seriously than my own. I considered them more important, more urgent. I neglected myself.
Life has taken so much from me. I cling to things, even when they don't support me. I cling to the concept of you, even if you don't love me, see me.
I cannot control either. I have this burning, desperate desire to be witnessed, seen, understood, and loved, even fleetingly. I'm also scared of it.
I'm desperate for your love because I'm desperate for my parents'. Safety, attention, acceptance, laughter, understanding, peace, happiness, time.
Saying that feels harsh, and I don't intend it to be. I am still soft for you, or I should say soft in general. We were kids together. Be happy.
But I won't. I don't need your understanding, viewing, or love to be alive. I don't need it from my parents either. I'll find my way, and you yours.
It's a complicated feeling, knowing I wouldn't be like this if I had been supported. I feel like a fraud. I feel like I should punish myself forever.
The truth is, it's terrifying to let go, to breathe in fully, all the smog and all the oxygen. It feels like none of this was real, like I'm not.
I need to escape escapism. That is incredibly difficult when I've been frantically treading water the whole time. Running and sinking. Avoiding.
The older I get, the more I understand that my rumination has more to do with my circumstances than you, specifically. It feels defeating to say that.
Does August bring back a phantom pain for you too? Did you not feel us growing distant over that year? Did you think we would survive distance & time?
I hope you never become the secondary character in your own life, either. You deserve good things. You deserve peace. You deserve a life you love.
I struggled with it with others too. Sometimes I still do, but I try and embody myself as much as possible now. I try to not lose myself in others.
My two feet had felt secondary to yours, before that. How sad, to not be the main character in my own life. It took a forced loss to find myself.
I had only my two feet to stand on. Only my soul to embody. Only my experience to listen to. It was liberating and petrifying. It changed me.
I did not know what to do with the quiet and empty and calm when you left. It hurt so much that it felt better without you. You were so far away.
I think half the reason I did not properly get with anyone who wanted me in Grade 9 was because I still loved you. I still wanted it to be you.
You braided my hair for my middle school grad photo. I looked so pretty in it, looking back. Thank you. I never knew how to look pretty as a girl.
I also thought of you a lot during graduation. When you left, I never thought I would graduate with you ever again. I was so happy and sad about you.
I thought of you so much during the end of high school. It felt wrong to end it without talking to you, but also very wrong to try to. All wrong.
Standing at your doorway for the first time in years was sort of breathtaking. I wonder how you felt. My cheeks were probably red, it was hot out.
I had not intended to be anywhere near your house that day, with them. That drive was painful. I was jealous of their time with you, just a bit.
My life got worse a few months into Grade 12. And then everything slowly ended and we all graduated. I thought you might reach out, but you did not.
The summer after Grade 11, I thought of you a lot. I let go of thinking I needed to hate you. I let myself acknowledge/feel everything I had not yet.
You were high all the time, and I do not blame you. You were in hell. I know how sharp grief can make you. Maybe I would do the same, in your shoes.
You had cut your hair. It had been long for years. It had not been short since we were kids. It was bittersweet. Our hair was almost the same length.
During that time, all I wanted was more words from you. Alone. Which, may have been hypocritical. That is why I could not look away. Never hatred.
It was so visceral, I almost went up to you and reminded you of it. But you hated me, and I was supposed to hate you. So I sat in my feelings.
There was a day in early Grade 11, when we shared a class. I remembered us on that trip in their basement, laughing. I wanted to laugh with you again.
Do not miss your snoring, or us sleeping in half the day. Miss waking up next to you. I do not miss hearing you fight with your family, you suffering.
I miss our inside jokes, with nowhere to go. We would never be compatible, these days. Could you even make me laugh? We have grown into ourselves.
If you never find the softness to hold what used to be, between us, I will for the both of us. Was a part of our lives. And there will be more parts!
Cannot believe I let you drag me back to church. Was horrendously down bad. I would have followed you anywhere to attempt to make it bearable for you.
I hope to achieve the same for myself, more happiness in the present than in the past. Memory is a biased storyteller. I was unhappy then, as well.
I know you did at some point. Maybe those feelings are gone. If they are, I am happy that you have found happiness enough in the present. Sincerely.
Maybe you forget it all. I would not blame you. I struggle to remember so much. I miss your backyard, and you in mine. I miss 7 summers ago. Do you?
It hurts that I do not remember the last day of us just alone. I hate that our last day together was with someone else. It feels wrong. Does it not?
I did not anticipate fighting with you, or losing you that day. It was not a fight, in my perception. I did not know the last day was the last.
I had a gut feeling that you were changing and I was not, and that I would lose you, for about a year before I did.
Would have spent the rest of my life chasing your acceptance. Having feelings for you, to some degree. We both would have suffered for it, I know it.
Scared to change your perception of me. Scared of losing you. I lost you anyway, so what did it really matter? Your acceptance meant so much to me.
I had first mentioned it to one of our friends over a couple years before you knew. I pushed it down, for many reasons. One was you, I was scared.
Sometimes I am surprised that you did not know already. Probably because we always could have truly known each other more. We needed to be wanted.
But there was always an ache, when it was a guy. Because I had always wanted to be your boyfriend, not your girlfriend, and I could not be either.
I hope you were jealous, even just for a moment, when you found out it had been her. Cause I always hoped it would be you. I wanted that, for years.
God, I do not miss being as jealous as I was as a young teenager. It was almost worse when it was other girls. But I also just wanted you to be happy.
I miss summers and winters with you and March Breaks. Did you ever think about the fact that she shared my name? Is that why you did it?
I think you dealt with more homophobia than me, from family. I hate that. I hate the thought of them being mean to you as a kid, at all.
Wish you had know him. Wish you had come to the cottage with me. Wish you understood how it felt to lose him when I did. Wish I understand your loss.
I wish you had met him. I loved you two more than anybody else on Earth, for a very long time. It feels wrong that you never met. Does not add up.
I wish he believed me when I told him, abstractly, that I had feelings for you. I was 12. I wish I could have had a parent to confide in about it.
Other crushes were obsessive, fantasy, unattainable. Other friends were not all-consuming desire to protect, make smile, and know forever. Different.
I wonder if you understand how different you were to me than any other crush or friend. It was not like anyone else. It was soft and real and hopeful.
Part of me believes that if I write these thoughts semi-publicly then I can release them. I know I may never say them directly to you. I will move on.
She seems to think we may become friends again someday. I doubt it, you likely doubt it. Feels weird to be recognized by her when you walk through me.
After a hellishly complicated middle and high school experience, you deserve every ounce of happiness college could offer you. I thought of you.
I hope you had a much better college experience than I did. I was completely miserable, for a multitude of reasons. I truly hope you had lots of fun.
If you ever did mean it, I am sorry that we never ended up being roommates and experiencing any of it together, even platonically. It is bittersweet.
Awhile ago, I reread texts from years ago for the first time. Inside jokes about us getting together in college. Did you mean it? Did you want that?
I wonder if you remember my middle name. Or my birthday. The trips, away. I wonder how much I have truly forgotten about you over time.
I do not believe in the concept of replacing people. You were never replaced, you can never be. Neither can I. We are all separate people not objects.
I wish I could remember all of the music you ever recommended to me. I feel bad, because there is about only one song that I viscerally remember.
I wonder if we would have been drawn together at all, at the same time, if we had both come from healthy families. Probably not. Bittersweet.
I want to know the softest daydream you have ever had about me. I am so curious. Even if I were to be disappointed, I would still want to know.
Sometimes, all I want is to sit and laugh with you. I realize that what I truly want in that moment is to know you are at peace. I cannot, so I hope.
I hope you distantly feel happy for the man I become. I, distantly feel happy for the woman you are becoming. It is so strange to not be kids anymore.
Everyone who loves me, and knows me, knows your name, for I loved you long before I knew theirs. They are called formative years for a reason.
I hate the restrictions of being human. I will never know what it is to be you. You will never know what it is to be me. Maddening to not understand.
I felt so guilty for my feelings. I want to hug my younger self. It is not shameful to love. It is not shameful to care and to desire. To feel light.
I miss being so young and naive that I truly believed that you would be in my life forever, that we had a bond that strong, that you were everything.
I miss the name only you called me. I miss being oblivious and naive. Miss how hard I laughed with you. I miss before we hurt each other irreparably.
What does it say about me, that I imagine you hating me to feel worse and you at peace to feel calm? I feel eternally guilty. Maybe you agree.
Hearing someone insult your appearance still felt like a sting, even when I was pretty sure you hated me. Black lipstick suits you. You are beautiful.
I often admired how you course corrected your style, your hair, your piercings, and your location, over the years. I hope to obtain similar bravery.
A part of me is relieved that you have not yet reached out to me. I do not want you to perceive me like this. I want to change, truly, first.
I wonder which one of us made up a more distorted version of the other in our head. I think it might have been me, and for that, I apologize.
You will always have a special place in my heart even if we arent biological siblings I love you lots no matter what happens /p
But I do hope that you don't think of me as much as I think about you, and that you don't do so by performing the methods that I used over that year.
Sometimes I wish you could have this many words for me, but then you wouldn't be you. I have no interest in changing you, and I can't. C'est la vie.
Confounding to me how I don't find your humor funny now, but when we were alone together in a room, everything was. Love can be funny, glad ours was.
I was always soft, but never as soft as I was for you, though you also hardened me, over time, through your grit that you needed to survive, I know.
Through grief, I became so much more attatched to you, I felt like I needed you, like I had to save you. I became softer, more desperate. I'm sorry.
This is selfish, I know, but, I hope I pass away before you do, so I never have to feel the grief of losing you, again, truly. I suck at grief, maybe.
It's so hard to stand alone, to hold yourself, but it makes love all the more real, thrilling, and soothing when it isn't so desperately codependent.
Sometimes I wish I could just turn myself into the "soulmate" of the people I love(d) most, someone more suitable for them. I need patience, bravery.
My everyday daydream was, simply, you laughing while smiling, your hair falling around you, so pretty. Getting to see that forever, be the reason.
My feelings for you were so inextricably platonic and romantic. It was so confusing. I just wanted to laugh with you forever. So funny, so pretty.
When we were kids, and we were playing, I think you were imagining yourself as a troll, while I was just a guy. In my head, you were always beautiful.
I wonder if you ever think of me as softly as I try to think about you. I wonder what you think about the most. I wonder what you miss the most.
My cat passed away recently. The night before, one of my thoughts was that you hadn't been there for the last half of her life. Miss you two together.
Enough time has past lets be friends again. we have both moved on in life and built a foundation worth keeping.
I really do like yu but idk how to say it so yes I do like yu
& i'm sorry for treating you like crap. i'm not making the same mistake again with him.
yes, it's me.
& i'm sorry for treating you bad. i will never make the same mistakes i did with you, with him. i'm in love for real this time.
no, i don't dream about you. i'm happily engaged to a man. i hope you're well and your family's okay. you taught me how to love the right way.
Getting curious about my past feelings for you, and feeling them fully, without shame, was the only way to make peace with them and to move forward.
You changed me profoundly, as people do. We learn so much from the people who change us profoundly, and we course-correct and align better each time.
The concept of not caring about you scares me, but I don't think it'll ever come to fruition, anyhow. I don't think that feeling deserves punishment.
Sometimes, I think I've forgotten your voice. It's probably changed since I heard it regularly. Sometimes, I want to hear you talk about everything.
Sometimes, I wonder who would've been the one to awaken me to love, platonic and romantic, if it hadn't been you. Sometimes I long for that reality.
It used to be so hard to fall asleep around you, I was always so anxious. You didn't exude safety, but, ironically, you did feel like home.
Sometimes I hate myself for not being more like you. I regret it when I try to be. I think you'd call me pathetic again for still caring this much.
Your laugh is the drug that I am jealous that other people get to take, that I must stay sober from, for the rest of my life. Life is unfair, I know.
Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I drank with you, once you started drinking. Maybe you would've finally been brave enough to kiss me.
I remember little things you disliked, irrational fears, how deeply you wanted to be loved. I wonder if they've changed and if you wonder about mine.
Sometimes, in the rare moments that I'm at peace, sometimes looking at a camping sunset, I think of you, and hope you feel that same peace as well.
Sometimes, when I'm doing bad, I picture you completely at peace, everything you weren't when I knew you, and that thought alone calms me down a bit.
I'm sorry that I'll never hate you, I know you "love it" when people do. I can't find hatred in my heart for you. Your peace brings me peace.
The world is so messed up. I used to think we would have a whole lifetime of memories together. I hope you get all the peace, love, and success.
I love you so much, I am so proud of you baby.
You treat/treated me like you wouldn't cared if I live or dye
I just wanted your attention and you spat me out
Autumn is goated guys shes like a mini me and shes kawaii and pretty and shes uhhh super rich !!! -Noah
Autumn is super pretty and funny shes the bestest
Have a nice life
I feel nothing for you anymore
it's been three years and for no reason
go ahead and forget about me
I never understood the concept of wanting somebody in your life, much less forever, until we got close. Ill always miss laughing with you. Take care.
We were so young. I worshipped the myth I made of you, but Im off my knees now. Walk by the church I joined, again, for your sake and I cry at change.
You were the first person I loved both platonically and romantically. First love isnt always true love. We loved each other as much as we could.
I hope you find somebody who makes you feel like music makes you feel.
I dont crave being enough for you anymore. We dont fit each others bill. Its not a tragedy.
I find fondness in me for fictional characters that act similarly to how you used to. Through love, we excuse.
Youll never be entirely loved by me again. Youll never be entirely unloved by me.
You taught me how much I value the friendship involved in romantic love.
I hope my absence brought you the peace that my presence could never quite give you.
I hope you get everything you ever wanted and I hope I never hear a thing about it.
I have never been able to hate you. I have never been able to truly want to. Take care.
If your apology to me had been longer than three sentences, I probably would have gone back to you.
You altered me significantly. Sometimes, I feel like I wasnt really here until I met you.
Back then, you were the most important person to me. Too young to know what to do with it.
I know its for the better. I know I'll always think of you with something like hurt and nostalgia.
Your presence in my life introduced me to love. I pray for your happiness despite my lack of religion.
But hey, if things ever fall apart between you two, Ill be here. I always will be. Lol, I still remember when you used to call me KK .. I miss you
hailey brings out the worst in people, i think both me and you know that
I miss Hailey too, but I'd rather gouge out my own eyes and eat them than ever be friends with her again
i like reading old snapchat messages between us
if you ever wanna reach out ill be here, I miss when you were my bestfriend.
i understand i was a bad person, i am trying 2 change that, i quit everything, vaping, alcohol, literally everything. im better now
lowkey miss hanging out w you, enjoy hailey tho. I miss playing roblox together when we were kids lmao, it was fun. ty for giving me a fun childhood
so all of the sudden when you get a bf you stop talking to me,making zero effort to hang out or even communicate or text me? i thought we were friends
i love fall but now i cant because it always reminds me of you
you said if i was a boy you'd like me back. i'll be waiting for you to accept that i never will be.
Youre the only girl on my mind why can't it still be you my pretty michigan girl. Pink for your favorite color
I miss you, come home
Love you cutie! i'm happy to be on this site with you :d love, bb
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