Do you have a quote you live your life by or think of often?
❤️
You never know who you may be helping or inspiring, even in difficult situations.
Years ago, I saw a short video clip with an elementary school teacher sharing his true experience with a troubled little boy.
He said the boy was very difficult. He yelled at the teacher and wouldn’t do his work. He was disruptive in class and was always verbally aggressive with the teacher. He could tell the boy hated him. It never stopped all year, the boy acting up and being rude & negative to the teacher.
He showed the boy nothing but love & kindness in return. He was always patient and tried to be as understanding as possible, but he said it was difficult. All throughout the yelling and disrupting the class and rudeness the little boy displayed, the teacher’s love never wavered.
At the end of the year, the kids all gave him a card, thanking him for being their teacher and for being kind & helpful.
He sat at his desk and read all the cards after the last class was over and all the kids walked out that one last time.
All the messages the kids wrote were positive. Then, he got to the card that difficult little boy wrote to him.
The teacher said he was anxious to open it. He hesitated and thought “Oh no, what is this one going to say.” He already knew it would be an insult or something like “I hate you, you were the worst teacher.”
Finally, he opened it and read. The teacher was shocked.
It read: “I wish you were my dad.”
He was deeply moved by just that one line.
That story stayed with me since I heard it many years ago. I’m not sure why. It’s a recurring memory through the years. It’s probably the best story I ever heard.
That must have been the best and most heartbreaking compliment that man ever received.
It just goes to show how our own life can touch someone’s else’s for the better, even in the least expected places. ❤️
The skyscrapers Seemed to rise especially high On the evening I first found her Kissing passion into the sky As if it were their queen Worshipped And drowned In pure adoration
Stars dappled the sky as night continued Like silvery kisses scattered about All through the night No match for the light In her amber eyes As they lit up with that same passion the stars did But were more intense
The city came to life In the sticky Summer air Laughter and chit chat echoed through the streets As people made their way to restaurants and clubs and bars and bowling alleys And traffic sped throughout the streets And the city lights twinkled Like lost songs Playing among the stars
I felt each symphony Deep into my bones
Finding her felt like home There was a sense of impending exulansis seeping into my skin As I watched her move like the wind And become the night Knowing then I would forever Be marked By a thing that escapes words Leaving only traces Of something unidentifiable Traveling up my spine And lingering on my supple flesh Seeping into the pores and tissue Penetrating bone Becoming a permanent part of me No less essential than my very dna
An echo of an ethereal kind of beauty Not of this dimension Perfumes all of my nights As my mind drifts back To that moment I laid eyes on her Taking in every curve of her body Imagining the softness of her skin Beneath my fingertips
Devouring her intoxicating beauty With the kind of primitive greed Of someone trapped in a desert For too long, dying of thirst and suddenly finding a creek of sapphire blue or emerald green, glistening in the dark of night
And there are hints of that sense of belonging Still dwelling in a place in me I can’t recognize Along with that aching burn of rejection Sinking deeper and deeper into the belly Into a seemingly endless abyss of suffocating sorrow
Suddenly I blinked And she was lost In that one infinitesimal moment Ripped out of my arms By the rapacious hands of reality As my seemingly perpetual daydream came to an end And I woke up into the harshness Of what is true Reverie shattered by a truth I was never ready or willing to accept A truth that burns in me with the passion of a thousand suns in the middle of an August afternoon In the Northern Hemisphere
Now I stand On a sticky Summer night That takes me back To that day I found her When the skyscrapers seemed A tad taller, and the stars shone a bit brighter
Perfumed in that inexplicable beauty That still leaves traces Throughout my existence And I taste the silvery Kiss of the stars As I catch them in my eyes
Hints of wonder In the midst of a deep longing For a thing that existed Only in my fantasies But was the realest thing I have ever known
(That dark spot under my eye is a sunspot/beauty mark/freckle…I had for many years now lol In some pictures, like this one, it doesn’t look right. But I don’t want to filter it out because it’s part of my face in reality)
Found & Lost 🖤
The skyscrapers Seemed to rise especially high On the evening I first found her Kissing passion into the sky As if it were their queen Worshipped And drowned In pure adoration
Stars dappled the sky as night continued Like silvery kisses scattered about All through the night No match for the light In her amber eyes As they lit up with that same passion the stars did But were more intense
The city came to life In the sticky Summer air Laughter and chit-chat echoed through the streets As people made their way to restaurants and clubs and bars and bowling alleys And traffic sped through the streets And the city lights twinkled Like lost songs Playing among the stars
I felt each symphony Deep into my bones
Finding her felt like home There was a sense of impending exulansis seeping into my skin As I watched her move like the wind And become the night Knowing then I would forever Be marked By a thing that escapes words Leaving only traces Of something unidentifiable Traveling up my spine And lingering on my supple flesh Seeping into the pores and tissue Penetrating bone Becoming a permanent part of me No less essential than my very dna
An echo of an ethereal kind of beauty Not of this dimension Perfumes all of my nights As my mind drifts back To that moment I laid eyes on her Taking in every curve of her body Imagining the softness of her skin Beneath my fingertips
Standing intoxicated Devouring her beauty With the kind of primitive greed Of someone trapped in a desert For too long, dying of thirst and suddenly finding a creek of sapphire blue or emerald green, glistening in the dark of night
And there are hints of that sense of belonging Still dwelling in a place in me I can’t recognize Along with that aching burn of rejection Sinking deeper and deeper into the belly Into a seemingly endless abyss of suffocating sorrow
Suddenly I blinked And she was lost In that one infinitesimal moment Ripped out of my arms By the rapacious hands of reality As my seemingly perpetual daydream came to an end
And I woke up into the harshness Of what is true Reverie shattered by a truth I was never ready or willing to accept A truth that burns in me with the passion of a thousand suns in the middle of an August afternoon In the Northern Hemisphere
Now I stand On a sticky Summer night That takes me back To that day I found her When the skyscrapers seemed A tad taller, and the stars shone a bit brighter
Perfumed in that inexplicable beauty That still leaves traces of her Throughout my existence And I taste the silvery Kiss of the stars As I catch them in my eyes
Hints of wonder In the midst of a deep longing For a thing that existed Only in my fantasies But was the realest thing I have ever known
This is a thank you letter I wrote to my kidney/organ transplant team and printed it out and took it to the transplant center at the hospital and dropped it off for them recently, with some small thank you gifts & cards. A few of them called me on their own cell phones to tell me how moved & uplifted they were by my story and gifts. They said it made their holiday season and even whole year. I even remember one of them using the term “blown away.” Lol They knew some details of my situation but not our whole story. My kidney transplant surgeon, Dr. Parsons, called me to thank me and ask for my permission to share this letter. I said yes!
We are released as a patient two years after our surgery, so in January 2026, I won’t be a patient here anymore. I was a patient here for almost three years, almost a year for my evaluation before surgery and then the two years after. I wanted to express my appreciation for the excellent care and deep compassion of my healthcare team throughout the last few years. And not only for what they did for me, personally, but the work that healthcare workers do for people in general. Healing people and saving lives is one of the best kinds of life work that someone can do. They can be doing anything, and they choose to literally save & enhance lives.
I would like to share the letter here. Everyone who hears or reads our story is amazed. Some even cry. Lol
The staff are a team of doctors, surgeons, nurses, physician assistants, med techs, and some others who are non-medical professionals but help in other ways. I hope to keep in touch with some of them through some of the organ donor events that take place, like the Donor Dash every April and the living donation celebration, hopefully every year.
Here is my letter to the Penn Transplant Institute staff:
To Mary Cate, Lauren, Nurses Cassandra & Ashley, Dr. Parsons, Colleen, and the whole Penn transplant and surgical teams,
Thank you all so much for your help & care throughout my kidney donation journey!! I’m thankful I chose Penn and would do the whole thing all over again & again if I could! I wish I had enough kidneys to give to every single person in need. It’s the best thing I ever did!
Not only did I get to help someone (possibly two people), but I also now have a great friend, which I wasn’t expecting. My kidney voucher recipient, Greg (you may have met/seen him, I brought him to the living donor celebration), and me were strangers when I heard he was in need of a new kidney. I was just planning on helping him and going on my way, no strings attached. But we have since become very good friends and have this unique & rare connection through our experiences that brought us together.
I was already accepted as a non-directed donor and in the process of donating my kidney to just anyone in need when I heard about a man in Philadelphia who was in urgent need of a new kidney. He was on dialysis for years after an unexpected diagnosis of end stage renal disease when he visited a doctor for suddenly feeling unwell.
He had no luck finding a kidney donor and kept getting sicker. Greg and his family were losing hope after years of waiting and failed attempts. A few of his friends & family members began the living donor evaluation process, but none were qualified. He was told it would take many years for a deceased donor. His only hope was a living one.
Greg had many hospital stays and severe complications of dialysis and kidney failure. There are multiple occasions, his family walked out of the hospital after visiting him, not knowing if they would ever see him again. He was constantly exhausted and in pain and getting infections. He had strict fluid & food restrictions and was constantly thirsty.
He had to quit his job because he became too sick to work. His life was in danger, and the quality of it was greatly suffering, and there seemed to be no end to his suffering. He said he spent hours and hours online, trying to find any bit of hope of eventually receiving a kidney transplant, but no hope was found.
His doctors told him he may not live the amount of years it would take for him to receive a deceased donor kidney because of how advanced his illness was. Greg said it was the darkest point in his life, receiving that devastating diagnosis and then getting sicker and sicker, living in a constant state of uncertainty without any glimmer of hope.
His dad and aunt had to become his caretakers and do mundane tasks for him. His family told me his suffering was becoming too much for him to bear and too much for them to have to witness.
Greg was struggling with the effects of dialysis and was in a deep depression. Just before I learned about him, he was on the verge of giving up and told his family he wasn’t sure he could go on much longer like this.
When I heard about him, I looked his family up on social media and sent them a message, introducing myself, and offered him the kidney voucher. I explained that I was already in the process of donating my kidney to just anyone in need, that my evaluation was already complete, and that I had the opportunity to donate the voucher to someone else, so that, if eligible for transplant, that person would be almost guaranteed to get a new kidney through my donation to an anonymous person, and likely somewhat soon, as long as there were no complications with the system or the person’s own situation. I told them I did not know anyone who needed it and would like to offer it to Greg after hearing how sick he was.
Greg and his family never heard of the voucher program and thought I made it up. They did not believe that I would donate my kidney to just anyone or that a complete stranger could just come out of the blue with a kidney for Greg, already qualified and ready for donation. They said it was too good to be true. It took a while to convince them that it wasn’t a joke or a scam.
They wanted to talk to Nurse Cassandra, but she said, even with my consent to break my patient confidentiality, the living donor team never communicates with a potential recipient or recipient family, when I asked for her permission for me to give them her work phone number so that she could tell them anything they wanted to know about me.
They only believed me after I showed them screenshots of my patient portal content, and even then, they were frequently afraid that I would change my mind about donating my kidney. At his family’s request, we got tested to see if we were a match for a possible direct donation. There was no potential recipient chosen for me yet, so I agreed to it.
Coincidentally, we turned out to live only fifteen minutes apart and be a very good match. His transplant team recommended that I donate my kidney directly to him. So, this was our plan for a while, as Greg was preparing to be evaluated for transplant.
But our situation turned out to be where it was better for him to have the voucher. We are both glad about this because then an extra person was potentially helped. Even when Greg was devastated and wasn’t sure he was going to live long enough to receive a new kidney when he found out he couldn’t have mine, he told me more than once he was so happy for the other person who would get my kidney and still tells me he’s glad it worked this way because that person was helped, too.
He remembered the joy and hope it brought him and his family and friends when he thought he was going to receive my kidney and said he was so happy that someone else and their family and friends now got to experience that. His empathy and compassion for others still ran deep even through his own despair.
That’s how I know I found a good one! I have told him, I don’t think in terms of “deserving” or “not deserving,” I want everyone to live and be healthy and don’t care what person/kind of person got my kidney (as long as he’s not a Cowboys fan! Then, I may have had to call the whole thing off or regret it 😆 jk That’s what I like to say when someone asks me what if a “bad person” got my kidney!), but if ever anyone “deserved” it, it would be him.
During his transplant evaluation, it was discovered that the dialysis & complications did severe damage to his heart, and it was a long journey to having that taken care of and being cleared for transplant. His condition was asymptomatic but life-threatening and putting him in imminent danger, even more than the kidney failure. So, he had two life-threatening health conditions at once. His prognosis, he was told, wasn’t good.
At that point, Greg’s healthcare team was not sure that Greg was going to live to be able to have a kidney transplant, they said the odds weren’t in his favor. The doctors he talked to refused to perform the heart surgery he needed because there was a significant chance he wouldn’t survive it. The news was shocking & shattering to Greg and his family. After just being so elated that he was finally getting a second chance to live and be healthy, they were told he may not survive much longer to ever get that chance.
I could have been waiting indefinitely. So, I decided to continue with non-directed donation, which was always my plan anyway and ultimately my preference as I like the idea of a random person being chosen and maximizing the impact by helping two or more. This was more distressing news for them, but I felt it was for the best for all of us. They understood my decision. Greg was devastated, but he chose to keep going and holding onto the sliver of hope he had, knowing he now had the chance, no matter how slim, for a new kidney, a chance that felt impossible before.
I made sure to only list his name on the voucher so him and his family would be assured that it would always be available for him whenever he was ready.
His family said even before we knew if it would all work out, just that little bit of hope I gave him was enough to pull him out of his depression and inspire him to hold on & keep going. It brought a little bit of light into his darkness, and even his physical health got a little bit better while he was still on dialysis because he now saw the possibility of life off of dialysis. He chose to keep focusing on the potential, the life that could be waiting for him at the end of the dark tunnel.
Greg found a heart surgeon who took the risk that no surgeon wanted to take. Even this surgeon was somewhat reluctant. He said he only risked it because Greg had a kidney donor/voucher already. If he wasn’t already so close to receiving a kidney transplant, the doctor would not have taken the chance. But he did, and he fixed Greg’s heart even better than the minimum he thought he could potentially do. Greg’s heart is now in very good condition. And he was placed back into the system for a kidney transplant.
On February 4th, 2025, just over a year after my non-directed donation, Greg received his new kidney and is doing amazing. He got his whole life back. He is especially thrilled because he is the biggest Philadelphia Eagles fan, and his Kidneyversary date turned out to be the anniversary of the 2018 Eagles Superbowl win!
In 2018, long before I met Greg, I bought a Philadelphia Eagles scarf with the date, “February 4th,” on it. In 2025, I dropped it off at Jefferson Hospital as a surprise gift for him after his kidney transplant on February 4th. I chose not to visit him so as not to potentially expose him to germs, but the nurses gave it to him for me. He said it was the best gift he ever received (the kidney being a close second. 😆)
💚
So, his transplant date is an especially special date for him! We are so happy about that! (And he got home just in time after his transplant to watch the Superbowl win again with his dad! Two big wins for Greg all in the same week, first a successful kidney transplant and then his team winning the Superbowl!)
Now, every year, we get to have two Kidneyversary days to celebrate, his & mine! The day that Greg received his new kidney was the most amazing day, it was like reliving the day I donated mine, except I got to be outside and not in a hospital bed. It was one of my most joyful, surreal experiences. And everything turned out perfectly for him, just like for me.
His doctors told him he’s so healthy now that he can realistically expect to live with his kidney for twenty or more years. They even said he can potentially live thirty more years with it. His transplanted kidney is working as well as it possibly can, and his general health is great.
He can work again after years of being out of work because of his illness. He got his old job back six months after his transplant! He loves his job and coworkers (many of the same ones, along with the same manager, are still there and warmly welcomed him back) and couldn’t wait to work again. He can go to concerts and games with his friends. We attended the Phillies game on Organ Donation Awareness/Gift of Life Night, hosted by the Gift of Life Program, and volunteered with them there to bring visibility to organ donation.
He said it was amazing and surreal that just less than a year ago, he was on dialysis, hardly even able to leave his house, and now he was there at a game, full of energy, and volunteering to help others get the life saving organ they need, just like he did. And he can travel to visit his family in another state. Before, he couldn’t even walk up a street without becoming exhausted.
He had the honor of meeting new friends (he even made a new kidney recipient friend at the living donor celebration!), and discovering a new cafe he loves that we visit frequently for breakfast together (and he doesn’t have many food restrictions and no fluid restrictions[The fluid restriction was one of his worst struggles, he was always extremely thirsty and found it hard to cope with that]. He still keeps his diet very healthy, though).
I have become an organ donor ambassador with the Gift of Life Program, doing volunteer work to bring awareness to organ donation and encourage people to register as potential organ donors. Greg is also planning on doing the training with the Gift of Life Program to become an organ donor ambassador.
Greg is 45 years old, and it’s like life is just beginning for him. He’s full of energy and life and hopes & dreams he wasn’t able to have before. He doesn’t have to spend hours living on a machine and then spend the rest of his days exhausted. He said he feels even healthier than before he got sick. He said he felt a significant difference in his health and energy as soon as he woke up after his transplant. The kidney began working instantly, and the effects were immediate.
He frequently tells me he’s going to pay it forward and make the world a better place, to give thanks for his second chance to live(He even says he wishes he could be a living organ donor now to show his gratitude and help someone else like he was helped. That makes me laugh!). Not that it’s necessary to me because just existing as a sentient being makes someone worthy of health and life, but he said he’s going to be sure to “earn” his new kidney.
Greg wasn’t registered as a potential organ donor, previously, and his experience receiving the gift of life, himself, inspired him to register as one. I find it heartwarming to see how much it changed him for the better and how one act of kindness can inspire so many more.
He makes friends everywhere he goes and is always doing acts of kindness like giving food workers extra big tips. It’s like he has more love & gratitude than he knows what to do with! It’s just overflowing onto everyone around him.
It always fills me with awe to hear the things he can do after being too sick for so long.
For years, Greg wanted to do the Donor Dash 3k walk, but he was too sick. Finally, in 2025, just two months after his kidney transplant, he was able to do the walk. It was his first goal after transplant. And he succeeded! We walked together. He can’t wait until the next walk and is already making plans to design t-shirts for his team. We also did the 2025 Kidney Walk together for the National Kidney Foundation in October!
He is going to begin working on his dream of becoming a dialysis tech to help people in the position he was once in. He said as a former dialysis patient himself, he will know how to comfort, encourage, and uplift the people needing dialysis. It warms my heart to see him so happy and know that, along with many others, I was able to play a part in him fulfilling his dreams and going on to help others.
I used to think of living kidney donation in a limited way, that it helps someone live, and their friends and family get to still have them around. And that was motivation enough for me to regift one of mine.
But, after this experience, I began to realize it’s so much more expansive than that. Countless things are going to happen when a person’s life is saved or changed that would never happen if they weren’t saved or changed for the better. It has an unfathomable and boundless ripple effect.
That person will go on to do things that will contribute to an infinite amount of other things. They’ll do work, engage in acts of kindness, have many encounters with various people, develop relationships, maybe have kids, and those kids will do an infinite number of things, on & on. When one person is saved, their life will have a limitless impact on the world, there’s no telling how many more will be helped, touched, or saved in various ways because that one person’s life was spared.
Even way into the very distant future, the impact of our choice to donate our kidney could still be existing even if it doesn’t involve the recipient or donor anymore. This isn’t just true for organ donation but any choice we make. Any choice, good or bad, any act of kindness, can have a lasting effect we can’t foresee and may never know.
This is true for every single one of us. We all impact everything around us in ways we may never know. Each impact we have will go on to create more effects. On & on & on.
The decision we make to give life doesn’t only help our organ recipient and voucher recipient, if we have one, but every single life they go on to touch.
We have no idea how powerful our own life is, no matter who we are or what we do. Every little thing we do touches someone or something for better or for worse.
If the thread that is us was missing, the uni-verse would not be the same. Part of it would unravel. We’re all connected in an infinite amount of intricate ways we’ll never fully understand. We’re all a thread in the tapestry of life, holding each other together.
After giving my kidney to save a stranger’s life, I understand this now in a deep way I never did before. It’s so enlightening.
Greg and me love our story, and we love to share it (we even found an excuse to share it with our lyft driver once!). There is nothing that either of us would change or wish was different.
He said he lives an almost completely normal life and generally feels like he’s not even sick anymore, other than occasional fatigue that his doctors said is normal for a transplant recipient, and having to take a lot of medication. He has a few side effects, but he said anything is better than dialysis and that he can’t complain.
There are so many seemingly small things he can do that healthy people may not even realize. When we think of someone getting an organ transplant, we often think of the most obvious things like the fact they can now go on vacations or have kids or get to meet their grandkids, or have a career…which is all great.
But there are so many simple joys that are now a reality for them, that are often overlooked by the healthy, like the fact that they can taste their favorite food again or eat ice cream (Greg was thrilled about this!) or not have fluid intake restrictions or can work in their garden, spend holidays at home with family instead of in a hospital, and just go for a walk outside without becoming exhausted.
Greg can now do all of these things and more.
I hope the same is true for my kidney recipient. I frequently think of him. I like to joke that it’s like having a long, lost twin out there somewhere! I was so happy to find out basic information about my kidney recipient when I asked. I had no preference but was a bit curious about the age & gender of the person, but I wasn’t sure it was ok to ask at first. Finding out that I have a “kidney brother” somewhere, was just as amazing as the day I donated my kidney. It made him seem more human in my mind and less an abstract concept, and added more joy to my already joyful experience.
I like to think that I have two kidney brothers. Maybe someday I’ll get to meet/communicate with my other one. But even if not, I’m so thankful for the opportunity to help someone! The joy never fades.
Sharing my kidney is just as much a gift to me as to my recipient/s.
Donating one of my kidneys to a person in need has been my dream for so many years since I read a heartwarming true story in a newspaper or magazine (It was so long ago, that detail is a bit hazy now), about a man who donated his kidney to a stranger. Being a dad inspired him, and he said we’re all the same beyond any differences, and anyone he looked at could be his own son and is just as worthy. It inspired me.
When I read that story, I instantly knew that would be me one day, sharing one of my kidneys with a person in need. Almost two decades later, it was! It just deeply resonated with me. I found it so beautiful to see the lengths that one human would go to save another, giving up a literal piece of himself.
I wasn’t sure when it would happen, but I knew one day, it would. If I have more than enough of something for myself, I see no reason not to give some to someone who doesn’t have enough. I had two perfect kidneys. And I have always been in perfect health. I wanted to share that so someone else can have even just a little bit of what I have. It made complete sense to me to give one away to anyone who needed it. The fact that I don’t know someone, or may not like the person, doesn’t make that person less worthy or less in need.
At that moment I read the story, it was not an urgent “calling” like it would become years later, but even then, I had this deep conviction that I have everything it takes and would do that for someone one day in the future. Through the years, thoughts about it were recurring, becoming more frequent and intense, often randomly, but not until 2023, did everything become perfectly aligned and right, giving me the motivation & ability to go through with it.
Some years ago, I, randomly, tried to donate my kidney at Jefferson Hospital’s transplant center. There was no particular reason I chose to then. I chose them because the location was very convenient with my work back then. But they stopped communicating with me with no explanation, then the initial covidvirus outbreak occurred, and my financial & work situations changed. I still frequently thought about donating my kidney to anyone in need and knew I eventually would.
That story I read many years ago stayed with me for all those years until my dream finally came true, 15+ years later. In March 2023, I saw a request on the subway one night after work, for a 76 year old Pennsylvania man, asking for someone to become a non-directed kidney donor and donate the voucher to him. I realized that I had the appropriate work, financial, and living situations again.
At that moment I felt the “call.” I knew instantly. It felt like being on the cusp of something incredible, a feeling that was lacking when I attempted to donate at Jefferson Hospital years earlier. The second I saw the request that night, without any hesitation at all, I looked up the National Kidney Registry and filled out the application on the train, to be a non-directed donor with intention to give the voucher to that man. If it did not work out with him, I planned to still donate my kidney to just anyone.
I knew the potential benefits to a kidney recipient significantly outweighed any potential risks to myself and that even if I did experience one or more of the rare potential complications at any point, at least it would be because I tried to help someone. I could never regret it. The only thing I would ever regret would be not taking the chance when I had it.
Someone else did not have the luxury of “maybe” that I had. Maybe I would experience a complication or maybe not, but someone else was already suffering complications of an illness, and all it would take was a small part of my body to help that. Giving up some of my comfort for a while, taking on a little bit of someone else’s pain, to possibly give someone a whole life, was more than worth it.
I knew as soon as I saw that request on the subway that it would lead me to do something amazing and profound, something I have always known I would do. There was this feeling like this is it, the seed that was planted all those years before, finally blossoming into fruition. There was no uncertainty, no hesitation. This remained true throughout my entire evaluation process. There was never a hint of reconsidering my decision or backing out. I had this overwhelming feeling like I was made to help someone, whether this person or someone else, and that in the end, it would all work out for the best for all involved.
Thankfully, it turned out that man on the screen on the subway was already helped by another stranger when my evaluation was through. 200+ people, mostly strangers, in & near Philadelphia, volunteered to give their kidney for him. Nearly all were rejected, but I loved seeing that it’s not as rare as people may think, for a human to reach out to help another struggling human, no matter what lengths they have to go. It inspired me that over 200 people did not hesitate to help a man in need, and I know many more would have reached out to help him if they saw his request.
So, I got to go on and help someone else. Ten months later, I donated my kidney to whoever needed it. That sign on the subway is what set the whole thing in motion. Those ten months brought me nothing but overwhelming joy. I loved the whole process and anticipation. It brought extra joy to my everyday, knowing I was about to help someone in need. I cherish the memories now. Some living organ donors talk about a big depressing “let down” after the whole thing is over, once the surgery takes place and the novelty wears off and there’s no longer this big thing to look forward to. But for me, the joy has only deepened since then.
I considered looking for another stranger in need to donate the voucher to after I learned that man was already helped. It was a coincidence that I happened to hear about Greg just as I was searching for someone in need. The donation process took a bit longer because I waited for Greg for a while until I realized non-directed donation would be best while donating the voucher to him.
Thank you for giving me that chance to help someone.
During the evaluation process, there was some concern about my depression history. I had to do another psych evaluation with the social worker in case the surgery or any aspect of donation triggered my depressive condition. I appreciated their care for not only my physical safety but also my mental health, but my experience had and still has the opposite effect! It elates me and lifts me, even in low moods.
I am just as healthy as when I had two kidneys! Nothing changed at all. I wouldn’t even know I had surgery or only have one kidney except for the scars (which I love, and wish would stop fading! Quite a few people who saw my incisions/scars {I love to show them off 😆} said I clearly had a great surgeon!). I remember just less than two weeks after my surgery, jokingly saying I wonder if they even took the kidney! I was nearly 100% back to my usual self already. I walked to my three week post op appointment! Two hours without stopping. And walked the two hours back home!
Greg and me both have had an extremely easy recovery with little to no pain or fatigue and no complications. We both have said it’s almost like we never even had surgery. I only needed the prescription pain med on my first evening home. Then, after that, never even needed Tylenol. And not one nap during my recovery! I was already back to work a few weeks later, just keeping the pets company who did not need walks (I’m a pet nanny for work), and a few months later, I was back to work completely with no problems at all.
I am as energetic as ever. I often walk 10+ hours a day and love to brag about how amazing that is for someone with only one kidney (even though I know having only one kidney doesn’t put me at a disadvantage for walking or any other physical activity)! I also like to brag about my two superpowers: being in two places at once (I heard that Lefty is somewhere in Minnesota!), & peeing for two 😆
None of this would have been possible for Greg and so many others without all of you on the living donor team and the work you do for living donors and, in turn, our recipients.
I thank all of you for being part of my journey and for all the work you do helping people and literally saving lives.
I found the whole Penn staff to be warm and caring. I remember having anxiety on my way to my first day of medical testing at Penn and even the night before. I was concerned that my blood pressure would not show as accurate because of my anxiety and was trying to think of ways to calm myself and my racing heart. Nothing was working. But as soon as I got inside and met the various team members, my anxiety completely dissipated, and every part of me became calm.
While the work itself is important, I also believe that the way healthcare workers interact with their patients is important and makes all the difference to us. I have received nothing but kindness, positivity, and compassion when interacting with the Penn staff, all throughout my evaluation process, hospital stay, and after.
The atmosphere at Penn is so positive and calming. On the morning of my surgery, I woke up with a palpable sense of inner peace that stayed with me even as I laid on the operating table waiting to go under. All of the healthcare workers in the operating room that morning were uplifting and funny and compassionate. And they played my favorite music for me, Oldies!
I was a half hour late for surgery because I got up later than I meant to and then got lost that morning and ended up in the wrong place with no idea where to go. The only person around was a friendly security guard who also had no idea where I was supposed to be. It held everyone up. I could tell a few of the doctors/nurses were frantic and trying to hurry up and get the whole thing going after having to wait for me.
I also overheard them talking outside the room about the challenges they had because of me showing up late (I’m still sorry!!). But none of them showed any anger or even annoyance, they even said it was no problem when I said I’m sorry. That’s one thing I always remember, the patience and understanding they showed me. They were also kind enough to take a picture of Lefty for me when I requested it before sending it off to its new forever home!
Another thing I have appreciated is the surgical team standing at the bed as I was waking up just after surgery, and gently saying my name over and over and telling me I was awake now. The first thing I saw was their smiling faces as soon as everything came into focus. And they told me I gave a beautiful kidney and thanked me for giving the gift of life. It can be confusing or startling to wake up somewhere that isn’t home, especially in a place like a hospital, before everything registers. They made sure I woke up knowing that everything was good.
That’s something I will always remember.
It may seem like a simple, unimportant thing, but it made my experience better and was a soothing and positive thing to wake up to.
Other than Dr. Parsons, I don’t remember the names of any of the doctors or nurses taking care of me that day or throughout my brief hospital stay, but I do remember that care, compassion, and patience.
I haven’t met one Penn team member who isn’t extremely caring and dedicated and welcoming.
I am in a living kidney donor group online with living donors all around the world, mostly U.S. donors, and one recurring complaint that I see is that some living donor centers do not show support or compassion to their donors after the surgery. They kind of forget about them or brush them off after the kidney is taken. It’s more common than we would like to think. I always tell people I have been lucky to not have this problem with Penn. Not only are we not dismissed or forgotten but are acknowledged with gratitude after our donation.
All of my questions before and after my kidney donation surgery, even the slightly off-topic ones that weren’t necessarily your responsibility to answer, were answered quickly and thoroughly, and the responses were always thoughtful and caring.
My interactions with most of the Penn team have been brief and not very frequent, but still, the impact is very positive and lasting.
I am writing all this in detail to remind you of the full extent of the impact of the work you do and the compassion you display. I know healthcare workers are often overworked, burned out, and sometimes constantly busy. It may not always be positive or easy work and can be stressful, I’m sure, but it touches countless lives for the better.
I am so honored to get to have this experience and to have worked with your team for the last few years. If ever I meet anyone considering living organ donation (I hope to inspire some along the way!), I will be sure to recommend Penn Transplant Institute and share with them my positive experience with you.
I love being part of the whole organ donation family and feel a sense of kinship & belonging with all the other donors, donor families, recipients, and their families.
My body “lost” a kidney, but I received so much more in return.
My kidney donation has given me this whole family, a new friend, an expanded life perspective, and most of all, the gift of seeing someone’s whole life change, dramatically, for the best.
Even though it wasn’t my intention or expectation, my experience with kidney donation truly has given me just as much as it has given those who received the gift of life out of it.
Even if I never got to know my kidney voucher recipient or my actual recipient, I would be so thankful for my opportunity to get to help someone, but getting to see firsthand the incredible impact, it adds to my experience.
I hope Lefty is doing well, and I will continue to take good care of Righty and bring awareness to living organ donation (and organ donation in general)!
My kidney donation journey at Penn is coming to an end after almost three years, so I want to say thank you and share with you my amazing experience before I go.
Thank you, again, to every member of the Penn living donor team, the surgical team, the general Penn transplant team, and all of the healthcare workers who took care of me during my hospital stay after surgery.
With love,
Kim
❤️There were way more than shown here lol I had three shopping bags full of gifts, some personalized for the people I worked with more directly, but most for the staff in general. 💙💚💚💙
So, there’s our story!
If you have a healthcare worker or team of them, I recommend showing them your gratitude & appreciation with a small gift, letter, or card. Unfortunately, this is not allowed at every hospital/health center, so, checking with the hospital’s HR first is a good idea. Healthcare workers are professionals doing their job, but they’re also just people who don’t expect it but love to be acknowledged for the good they do. They definitely don’t get enough of it. I was not expecting any of them to acknowledge my letter or gifts to them. I was almost sure they would appreciate it but wasn’t expecting busy Healthcare workers to really stop and acknowledge it. But they couldn’t express enough gratitude or joy!
You can brighten someone’s whole day or even leave a lasting impact just by sharing how they helped you or someone close to you or even just thanking them for the work they do in general.
And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you.’
I recently had a strange experience. It’s so surreal and strange and unique to me that I don’t think anyone else can understand because to understand, you would have to be intimately familiar with my previous experience. And no one is. I kept it a secret for years until finally writing a very long post about it a couple years ago.
It’s a story that haunted me for years and needed telling, though. I thought I would take it to my grave. It was a cathartic experience writing it out and healed me in ways I did not realize still needed healing. It’s an experience that affected my self esteem and to this day, still does. It was agonizing, mortifying. Heartbreaking. I thought I could never get over it. It took me years to recover.
I’m going to share some of my story here.
Much of this is straight out of a previous post for some context, and then I share my strange related experience at the end.
When I was 21 years old, I met a woman. She was a bisexual woman who mostly dated men.
It was September.
And it was love at first sight.
She was laughing when I first saw her across the room. The gentle fluorescent light, playing up the highlights in her hair. I was instantly drawn in by her physical beauty. It caught me off guard. I see beautiful women everywhere and am distracted and moved. But this one was especially beautiful. She was breathtaking. I couldn’t peel my eyes away.
And her playfulness added to it. She was laughing and joking when I first encountered her. The way she threw her head back and laughed deeply, hysterically at something simple someone said, I was spellbound. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It was like the rest of the world fell away and there was only her. And she was all I wanted, all I needed.
Even as I write this now, I feel a stirring of sorts in my chest as I remember that feeling and how it was just the beginning of what would become a tumultuous years long journey of passionate love, longing, ecstasy, and agony.
I found myself moving to get closer to her. To breathe her air, to bask in her ways, to better hear her voice. I made my way over without being noticed. I found myself staring, smiling ear to ear. I remember thinking somewhere deep within that this one was made to be mine.
I just felt she was going to have some significance in my world. And she did. She wrecked my world completely. Brought me to ruin. I thought I would never recover, never claw myself out of the debris of my crumbled life and self.
She was a small, white woman, with messy, wavy brown hair that fell, softly, to her shoulders. Brown/green eyes. Maybe hazel, if I remember correctly. I can’t believe I don’t really remember. But I remember they were warm and loving.
I could tell she was quite a bit older than me, around forty years old, so almost twenty years. The age difference did not faze me.
She wore glasses and looked adorable. She came off as humble and welcoming. Her clothes were what some may call “frumpy,” loose, sweat kind of clothes. I found it pleasing. Later I found that she also dressed up a lot, in girly, dressy clothes. But she had no problem dressing down in public, sometimes even when she would attend conferences and give speeches in front of lots of people, she would dress in sweat clothes. She would laugh about it and say how terrible she looked (she totally did not!). I found her even more beautiful dressed down with no makeup, hair messy. (I sound like a man, and it’s kind of cringe 🤣)
There was something sophisticated about her. She had an air about her. I already got the feeling she was intellectual, intelligent, before I knew anything about her. The way she carried herself, the backpack around her shoulder, the book in her arms. She seemed deep and aware. I was correct.
I later found out she was a teacher/college instructor, and writer and editor for some blogs and local news articles. She did workshops on writing and stuff like that. She had genius level intelligence. There was no hint of arrogance whatsoever. She was very successful with education and career. She did not have much money or health insurance though and felt this was an indication of being a failure in life.
I could tell she had a sense of humor because of her frequent, wholehearted laugh while interacting with people. This was something I fell in love with right away. A woman who can laugh, and deeply, with abandon. She was very social. Extroverted. She touched people frequently, pats on the back, hand on their arms. Reaching out to pull someone aside if she wanted to talk to them. She laughed at everything they said, joked, playful insults back and forth with the people she was with, funny sarcasm. She was witty and could take a joke. She loved risque jokes and inappropriate stuff, like I do, and wasn’t easily offended. She could be a perv like me. LoL She was very girly, but also “one of the guys.”
This, along with her physical attractiveness, made her irresistible to me. She had a soft smile on her face when I first saw her. She wasn’t looking at me and did not even know I was there. I felt something instantly for her. I wanted to make her mine. I knew I had to know more. She looks like Tina Fey (& frequently told that) and with a similar personality.
One day, I found her singing. Her voice was soft, soothing, gentle, like the voice of an angel, caressing all the depths of my being. Hauntingly beautiful. I could tell her singing was inspired by a place of deep pain. Not temporary pain. I could tell she knew a life of persistent or recurring pain. I don’t remember the words. The words weren’t important. It was the soft melancholy ache in her voice, in the passion of her song. It was as if there was a wellspring of sorrow within her, driving that kind of singing. It resonated with the ache in me. I had no idea she could sing like that.
I thought she was perfect.
And this made me love her.
I got to know her more and more and realized she wasn’t perfect.
And this made me love her so much more.
She was perfect to me.
Perfect for me.
She’s the one I wanted by my side for the rest of this life.
Arrogantly, I thought I was perfect for her too and that she would agree. This is where I went so so wrong and suffered immense heartbreak. For years I thought she broke it, but it was all my own doing, letting myself be so dependent on the expectation that I would be someone to her when in reality she wanted nothing at all to do with me. And the not knowing why and the wondering nearly k!lled me.
I remember that feeling. The feeling that I found her. It stirs something in me now. It’s not her anymore who gives me that feeling, just the memory making emotions resurface, and the fact that it can happen again as I have the ability to experience this. A kind of nostalgic and anticipatory thrill. And I like it.
She was everything I thought she was and more. Compassionate. Intellectual. Deep. Hilarious (like incredibly hilarious, I imagined us laughing for hours together). Just as beautiful on the inside as the outside. Political. Progressive. Educated. Determined. Strong. All this and more. She was generally respectful while engaging with people who were difficult or ignorant, but she could be snarky and snippy.
I found myself on occasion, wondering how this incredible woman wasn’t already mine. How on Earth I’m just finding her now. It felt that we have and should have already known each other for years (I told her that once online, and she liked my comment). I’m not a believer in an afterlife of any sort but truly, I felt I have loved and known her in life after life. That we were bound together, made for each other by the heavens above, some cosmic force or magic holding us together.
I thought of her frequently when she wasn’t around. She was always on my mind. Whenever our paths crossed, I was overjoyed and ecstatic. My whole body would become energized. I would get giddy for the rest of the day and not know what to do with myself. I loved her and wanted her to be mine. I wanted her by my side all life long. I would daydream & fantasize. I did not tell anyone about my secret love. Not family or close friends.
I loved the secret longing. It gave me a thrill, particularly because there was always that possibility we would eventually belong to each other. After the rejection, years later, that thrill was mostly gone, the thrill she may someday be mine and was replaced by deep pain, sometimes life draining pain, but the thrill of loving her and knowing someone so beautiful exists, remained.
I would see her, randomly, and make it a point to walk by her, hoping she would notice and think I’m pretty or interesting. But she never did. If I would see her walking a certain direction, I would walk that way, hoping to run into her. If I saw her having lunch with people, I would sit close by, hoping she would notice, and also just to be in her presence.
But she did not really know I existed(literally she did but it felt like she did not). When I met her face to face, she did not seem as smitten with me as I was with her. She seemed to like me, just not actively interested in being my friend, it seemed. She was polite and friendly with me, but nothing more. I was very shy and did not know how to initiate anything and was too shy to often begin conversations with her.
Once in a while I got up the nerve to try but did not know how to really express how interested in her I was, did not know how to form a friendship. All my friends were people who showed interest in me first and introduced me to their friends and then we became friends. This woman did not show interest in being more than an acquaintance, if even that.
Sometimes she would see me and come to say hello and ask how I am. She would sometimes tell me what kind of day she was having or plans for her Saturday night (which was often staying at home reading a book/watching a movie and drinking wine). I would ask her questions about herself or her day/weekend, and she would respond and ask me a couple things, and that would be it. It never went anywhere, and I did not know how to direct it somewhere.
I also had inclination for calling her and thinking of her as Baby, sweetheart, honey, love, darling, babe…as terms of endearment or affection, something I only rarely experience and when I do only for women. I did call her that occasionally while commenting on her pictures and stuff. So did others.
Just seeing her sent some joy and ecstasy through me, like electricity. I became full of excessive energy and very talkative with my friends, laughing hysterically at everything everyone said. My smile hurt my face. It was like getting a “fix” for the day. I was bouncing off the walls all day and night. I was all giddy, my heart racing. I felt like running through the city frolicking about, laughing and singing.
I felt the uni-verse gave me the most incredible gift there is to give, letting me catch an unexpected glimpse of her. This was long before sending her the messages. I lost sleep over her so many nights, even before the rejection because I couldn’t get her off my mind. It was a good thing. I stayed up imagining us becoming close, imagining all the great things we would do together, thinking about how beautiful she was. I used to stay up til 4:30am, dancing around my room just thinking how someone so amazing exists.
My dad used to come into my room complaining about me being up singing, dancing around at that hour. 😆 He would hear me and come bursting through my door yelling “KIM!! What the HELL are you still doing up at this hour?!” I was bouncing off the walls. 😭 The energy she stirred in me wouldn’t let me rest. I seriously needed no sleep. It kept me going all day and night. I was never tired.
Eventually, we did not cross paths in person anymore. There was no defining moment when I realized I wouldn’t see her again, so it wasn’t as gutwrenching as it would have been. Circumstances just changed. But I carried my love for her for years. It never ended. I held onto the hope that we would see each other again. The hope wasn’t always active. I wasn’t constantly thinking about it. I knew she was out there somewhere, and somewhat close. This was enough for me.
My love for her would take the back burner once in a while, then reappear strong. Sometimes I would find a new woman to be all ga ga over. Not seeing this woman for a while, my love kind of mellowed out, but I carried it with me, hoping to run into her again. Once in a while it would become more active again. I would still daydream about her, sometimes fall asleep thinking of her even years later. There would be “flares” of thinking of her and longing for her then they would fade a bit.
My love stayed calm and hopeful off and on until one day I happened to accidentally come across her on Twitter. I had an online friend who had a Twitter account and I was looking at his and saw he re-tweeted something of hers. Imagine my surprise! To see her beautiful face again years later. She was around 45 years old, and I was 27 years. It was four years since last seeing her in person or having any contact with her. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest! I did not have a Twitter account but could see hers. I loved everything she posted. She was very politically Liberal, she called out racism, homophobia, transphobia, misogyny.
She did this even way before it was the cool mainstream thing to do. She shared all her opinions. This inspired me to look her up on Facebook and Google. It wasn’t in a creepy way. I looked her up on Facebook because we did kind of know each other to a point. If we did not ever know each other, I wouldn’t have. She was popular online and had years worth of writings and stuff, and I found so much of it. Her Facebook account was public, and she had many strangers as friends so I felt it wasn’t too creepy to request her as an online friend. She accepted.
I saw that she had a YouTube channel, blog, and Instagram account where she shared every aspect of her life and every thought that crossed her mind, even things most would not make public, like cheating on her husband with a married man, both of their marriages ruined, having an abortion without telling her husband (not saying she should have had to, but this is something most people wouldn’t broadcast to the world lol), she admitted to once dating and then moving in with a man just to use him for his money and place to live and things, when she wasn’t really in love with or interested in him for him, getting into arguments with people, the falling out she had with various friends and family members…She was a pill addict at one point and mentally unstable. Sometimes she wanted to k.ill people and would throw fits in public. She was in & out of psychiatric hospitals.
She was extremely passionate about openly supporting minority groups of any kind. She visited other cultures and learned their customs and languages. She denounced public figures/celebrities/popular people who expressed prejudicial attitudes against minority groups. She volunteered and donated money to organizations supporting minority groups.
She got a lot of criticism, even threats, but this did not stop her. She traveled and gave public speeches on LGBTQIA+ and racial minority issues. She wrote blog posts and newspaper articles on the issues. She did all this while battling debilitating mental illness and devastating headaches. I was in awe.
All this deepened my awe of her. Every terrible thing she did and shared and every great thing about her all clashed into a beautiful disarray of seasons and colors and everything. She was a beautiful disaster. My goodness was she beautiful in every way, the embodiment of beauty itself.
I wondered if her husband was out of his mind letting her go. I would have kept her and taken her back again and again.
We both held the rare philosophy that romantic love is not better than platonic love and friendship and that platonic love is equally fulfilling and important. And we both did not want to get married (she said once was enough for her, but she still wanted love).I thought there couldn’t be a more amazing person.
It wasn’t that I loved her “anyway.” That could have been true also.But I loved her even more, *because*. I don’t particularly have a thing for users, cheaters, homewreckers, liars, slobs (her apartment had roaches because it wasn’t clean lol), troublemakers, … it’s just because it was HER.
I also found out we loved the same kinds of stuff, books, music, cafes, movie theatres, shopping…
This is when I fell so madly in love. If I thought it was love before, this was on a whole other plane.
One day she shared that she found a dead mouse outside and she sat down and cried next to it, then buried it. She posted a picture of the mini memorial/grave she made for it. It was heartwarming, and I longed to hug her. This deepened my conviction that we were soulmates. I rarely to never meet people who care when a rodent or insect dies like I do. She would even feed roaches outside if she saw them and so do I. Lol Giving them bread or pretzels and some water. I have never known someone so compassionate except the Buddhists I used to hang out with Her and me are atheists.
I felt we were soulmates. I wanted a relationship with her that is more interconnected or close than close best friends usually are. But I would have been absolutely thrilled to have her in any context, even if she was a casual acquaintance or work friend. Most of my pain was not having any contact with her. I just wanted her in my world in some way. I was so super jealous of her friends and acquaintances because I did not have her in any way except a few social media comments/likes here and there. It was so tantalizing.
I wanted nothing but her. I wanted her to be mine and to take care of her forever.I felt like any problem I ever had would disappear if she was mine. So I sent her a long message, two actually, (don’t know how I got up the nerve but I did and wholeheartedly regretted it lol It was and still is uncharacteristic of me to be so bold) gushing about how we could be amazing friends and live close enough to hang out and do everything together since we like all the same stuff and she unfriended my account, after not responding for a few days. lol (definitely was NOT laughing back then)
I saw people who were strangers to her but lived close enough, commenting on her posts asking to get coffee or ice cream with her and her agreeing. She was very social and a bit popular because of all her activism work and volunteering and she had a large social media and blog following, mostly by people in our city. So my message to her was not completely out of the ordinary for her who did get lots of requests to meet up and hang out and she was always getting compliments on her physical beauty and personality. I had lots of competition; everyone loved her. She also got a lot of negative comments by a-holes who did not like her political views or just wanted to troll. This would infuriate me and I wanted to tell them all off. LoL I was very protective and defensive of her. I could not stand her getting negative comments. To me, she was perfection.
Back then, her rejection was the worst thing ever, and triggered a two month long major depressive episode thankfully not a s*icidal one but still debilitating – I was able to keep the s*icidal thoughts under control and I had close friends, which helped, even though they did not know what was going on, exactly, but I had difficulty getting out of bed each morning and getting to work, my body was so heavy and most of my joy in life was gone, s*icidal thoughts tried to emerge but I was able to keep them away, I saw no hope for any future for me, no food had flavor, I couldn’t sleep, no motivation to do anything – all I thought about was her and why she did not want me, was I not good enough…
My whole self felt so broken; it felt like I wasn’t whole, like I would never be because of this experience. I felt the rejection of someone and something I desperately wanted, but also, I felt a deep deep sense of loss. She was never mine to lose, but still I felt deep, profound loss. There was always that possibility. Beautiful potential. At least in my mind. But it was snatched away because of my decision to reach out and make myself and my love known. Oh. How I regretted it so. For years. How I regretted it. I regretted everything I said. Every word of it.
I remember this was one of the things that made it especially difficult to move on. I felt that I was irreparably broken, that I was now tarnished and would never be able to love anyone ever again. It felt like something significant, something inherent to me being me, was cut off permanently. I felt that I became a lesser version of me, a hollow version, a shadow or shell of what I was before I reached out to her. She was so much an essential part of me (with my perspective) or my love for her was, that it seemed impossible to have a full life loving her when she did not love me at all. It was like what good is life when the most important thing to me isn’t in mine. It’s a bit deeper than I know how to put into words.
I feel it’s coming off more superficial than it was. It wasn’t simply a matter of I can’t have her what good is life, that too. It was more that my love for her felt so fundamental to my core or identity that I felt somehow altered at a cellular level, almost like I wasn’t the full me anymore that I was. Like an identity crisis. It felt like this part of me , loving someone to this extent, this depth, this magnitude, who does not love me even just a little bit, is making me less the girl I was.
It physically sickened me to the point my headache disorder flared up unbearably for weeks and it felt like life was crumbling on top of me. The headaches were devastating, even more devastating than the emotional pain, in a way. I find physical pain of this magnitude to be even more difficult to cope with than emotional pain. It felt like my face being burned alive on one side. I have been depressed before over losses, exclusion, but this was different.
To get to see so much of her life (she was very open about every single aspect of her life, social, emotional, dating, romantic, sexual, marriage, interests, politics, religion, family, health/medical…She was raw, open, honest…and this is one of the things I loved most about her, how she shared herself with the world. I find being “an open book,” a very attractive quality in people) displayed on my screen and not getting to be a part of it in any way, was pain like I can’t explain.
She was my everything and more, and to not be good enough for her was a pain that is indescribable. Everyday, the pain ripped through me emotionally and physically. It felt like my life was over. I couldn’t see a future without her now that I found her. I truly felt that way for a while, that without her, life had nothing to offer me. But at the same second, the joy it brought me just to cross paths with her and know someone that beautiful exists, was out of this world. I was so amazed by the sharp contrast of joy and pain she brought me. They existed alongside one another, never touching or tainting each other. They never mixed or outweighed each other. They both had a place within. If it wasn’t for the overwhelming gratitude for just having crossed paths with her in this life and the knowledge of how wonderful she was, the pain would have been so much more difficult to bear. But the pain did not touch the gratitude, making it so I had that to lean on to carry me through it.
While the pain and joy were both equal, in fact, the joy was even deeper, I had to eventually give into the pain and let her go around three years later – the depression lifted after two months but the heartbreak continued – I stayed in love with her for the next couple years, after I stopped looking at all her content. I stalked it for a few years, then stopped, still actively loved her for a couple more years even after cutting off all contact with her content, til it eventually faded. It mellowed and gradually faded til it flickered out completely and thoughts of her were no longer painful or joyful. For a while I was still embarrassed and hoped she deleted the messages. LoL 😆 Kind of still low-key embarrassed.
Another thing that helped me get over her is leaning into the selfless aspect of my love for her. There was a part of that love that wasn’t for me. A part that wanted nothing but for her to be happy, healthy, fulfilled. A part that did not yearn or attach or expect. I seized that small but powerful aspect and leaned into it, nourished it, clung to it, until it grew, strengthened, deepened, magnified, and became enough.
That aspect of my love reminded me what an honor it was to get to feel this love for someone, it let me know my love wasn’t in vain, that it still mattered, still counted for something. It showed me the beauty in loving at a distance, of carrying a love so strong for someone I will never lay eyes on, someone I will never embrace, someone I will never have. It showed me a deep deep selflessness and let me live it each day. It reminded me that it’s a reflection of me, but it’s not about me. I was able to let go of so much of the selfish aspect of love, the part that makes us covet.
The part that expects and demands and is often conditional. I leaned so deeply into the selfless aspect until I submerged, til it eased some of the ache, the burn of rejection, until it made that selfish agonized part softer and softer, until it made me strong enough to endure without crumbling, and then that state gave way to the indifference, the indifference that eventually ensued after all the heartache and ruin, the indifference that set me free and gave me my life back.
In fact, the kind of person she was is one of the things that inspired me to cope and eventually heal. She was the kind of person who saw beauty in pain and brokenness, art in imperfection, she saw love & life & light in dark places, and a chance for healing in deep wounds. I harnessed that energy. And I put it to use in myself. I saw beauty in my pain and the brokenness of unrequited love. I saw my life of loving her as a beautiful novel, like the novels she read full of dark and despair, full of heartache, but also so much love and beauty. I saw love & life & light in my darkness, and I saw my wound, my deep deep gaping wound, as an opportunity to nourish and heal a part of myself that was so shattered. And I leaned into this.
The person I allowed to break me because I depended so much on and expected so much of her is the very person I leaned on to inspire me to heal that brokenness. Loving her so deeply for so long, she became my way of life, and that way helped me move forward out of the devastation that came upon my world. She was my darkness & my light, my joy and my pain, my despair & my hope, she’s the one I clung to so desperately for so long and the one who taught me how to let go. The one who brought me to ruin and my savior who pulled me out of that ruin. There was a beautiful irony in all of this that wasn’t lost on me. It’s a true story that she would have read and found so beautiful.
To keep dwelling on her and stalking her (lol) was keeping me in agony and doing me no good. The pain had more of a destructive effect overall than the joy had a positive effect. The pain was about not having her as my own but also the fact of being rejected and not understanding why. I know everyone doesn’t like everyone, especially not in a deep way, but she did not even want me as an online friend anymore.
It was hard to cope and understand. I had very good self esteem, always have, and this rejection was a blow to it. The fact that she responded to everyone else, even strangers, and loved everyone, but rejected me, made it so much more difficult to cope. One of my messages to her was about my s*icidal depression, something she talked about very frequently, about herself. She was very very open about her struggle.
I told her about my own struggle, which is very similar to hers. I’m open about it in general but told her more than I ever told anyone because I felt this deep connection to her in our similar struggle. I told her that I too sometimes come close to ending myself. It cut me so deeply because shortly after I sent her the message about my depression and sometimes s*icidal thoughts(I sent this a while after the love letter), she posted, “To anyone considering s*icide, please remember this world needs you.”
And she posted the s*icide hotline. To see her care about everyone else and not me was devastating. I felt like it was a slap in the face. Not that I was entitled to her love or a response but that did not make my pain any less to see my own pain ignored and me rejected but that she cared about other s*icidal people. It’s hard to explain without sounding entitled. I in no way felt that she owed me anything(I even remember feeling guilty for my pain and sense of rejection, telling myself she doesn’t owe me a thing, that I’m the one who found and came at her), but it did not make me want it any less. I wasn’t angry or bitter but devastated.
I felt that I wasn’t good enough for anyone after the rejection and took a while to recover. I couldn’t cope knowing “the most amazing person who ever walked the face of the Earth” did not love me. lol It was a matter of “If I can’t have her, I don’t want anyone.” It was like we were made for each other and if I can’t have her what’s the sense of having anyone? It was one of the deepest, most intimate loves I have ever known and I was sure I would never feel it again. I thought I would never get over it. I couldn’t understand why she did not feel the same.
She was so out of my league in every way, but I know that’s not why she rejected me. She wasn’t arrogant and dated/was friends with people of lower status.
Everything was so perfect and compatible, even our location was close(this is one of the main reasons for my pain, it was so tantalizing to have her so close in location but not have her, it would have been perfect). She loved women, so not like she was creeped out that another woman was in love with her. Also, she, like me, was very social and added strangers to her account.
And she was promiscuous, hooked up with lots of women and men she hardly knew and did not know at all, and was very open about it, even going into detail about her usual hookups, how she cheated on her now ex husband with a married man and it ruining both of their marriages, and drunken hookups and abortions and stuff, so I don’t think she cared that someone she hardly knew messaged her, probably all my sap creeped her out(it was a long love letter of nothing but praise and how I understand her completely and how we would be so good together forever – I’m laughing now lol I probably sounded desperate and clingy).
Her rejection did not weaken my love for her at all. It made no sense to me how, why we both existed in this same life together, so so alike, so compatible, my love for her so strong, yet we couldn’t have each other or have any interaction at all with each other.
I felt like the uni-verse made us for each other. And I couldn’t make sense of the fact that she did not like me even just a little bit. It made no sense. On top of my amazing self esteem thinking I was the shiz just in general and that anyone could like me (oh how this has changed), the fact we were both so similar, and that she basically loved everyone, I thought she was bound to like me. So I was totally confused and shocked to be rejected even as an online acquaintance. The devastation was debilitating.
We were similar in even ways that can’t be explained, like quirks that you think only you experience, or just little things that you think make you you and no one else can be like that. I was amazed! I never send friend requests, but I did send her one, and she accepted. She was more active on Insta, which I did not have, and her blog, and YouTube channel. She never liked or commented on any of my posts or pictures on social media. But she did occasionally respond to my comments to her or like them. We did not really interact much as friends, though.
Just out of nowhere, for some reason, I chose to be bold and tell her that I loved her. Have no idea what possessed me. LoL I remember my heart was pounding in anticipation as I was sending it and expecting a response that she would love to meet me again.
I remember waking up one morning and on the spur of the moment thinking “I think I’ll tell her I love her today.” I jumped out of bed, literally. LoL I sprung up and jumped with joy at the thought of connecting with her. I worked all day on the messages and poured my heart and soul into them. It took me days to get everything written out and edited and then finally I sent two messages and waited.
For days I waited and she wouldn’t respond. I would see her keep posting on social media and not responding to me. Actually what I remember is, she was very active on social media/blog/YouTube… posted every single day, all throughout the day. And after I sent her the messages, she stopped posting everywhere for a few days. That was extremely unusual for her. Then she came back and began posting everyday again but not responding to me.
Then finally she unfriended my account. Imagine the initial sting of clicking on her account and seeing “Add friend” and then the deep deep pain of all that entailed and implied, of everything it meant. I hoped so much she would change her mind and held out hope til I finally had to accept she wasn’t going to respond and did not love me. The first thing I thought is that I came on too strongly.
I only did because she was that kind of person, herself. If she was more reserved, even if I liked her, I wouldn’t have sent messages like that. She talked about how she scared men away who she was dating or into because of how much emotion and love she had. She was kind of clingy. And she talked about how she overshared about everything, way too often, with everyone, even strangers.
And I saw that in her YouTube videos, and she would stop and say “Wait, was that too much information?” LoL It would make me laugh. She said the more we share about ourselves, even ugly and awkward things, the more people have the opportunity to know us and therefore love us. And also that it empowers others to be themselves and feel less alone. I wholeheartedly agreed. I wrote to her one day that there is no such thing as too much information or too much love.
Maybe she just couldn’t handle being the recipient, herself.It absolutely k!lled me wondering why others were good enough for her but not me. She had many lovers and friends and acquaintances and even strangers who she expressed love for through the years. She was a hopeless romantic and was sad to be single but she couldn’t get a relationship to work. I would have been overjoyed even to be a casual acquaintance and have even a fraction of her love.
Suddenly, a man showed up in all her pictures and blog posts and videos, constantly talking about how amazing he is. She said he wasn’t a boyfriend, but a very close platonic friend, and they were always holding hands and kissing on the cheek, and going to weddings and restaurants together. He was always calling her his girl and Babe and posting pics of her on his own account(I stalked his account, bitter at him for stealing my woman and the nerve to call her Babe 😆 I thought of her as my babe and my sweetheart, my girl) and she called him “my guy” and “my man” and posted pics of him on her account. It destroyed me because it was like the relationship I wanted with her.
But I focused more on my love for her than the pain after a while and was able to be happy she found a true friend even though I still experienced such deep pain for myself. It was hard not to be jealous of him. Like come out of nowhere and get the girl of my dreams. Like gtfoh lol
I remember them celebrating her birthday together and I was torn. In one way I was happy someone was being good to her and she was happy, but another part of me was jealous that I wasn’t included and angry at him for being to her what I wanted to be. It was so difficult. The pictures and posts they would share while out celebrating all night would bring me pain, yet also joy. And I was happy she was happy because I knew her birthdays were difficult for her because she couldn’t stand getting older.
So it was good to see him keeping her uplifted and happy. She also lost her job after a while and he was there to bring her comfort. I was happy but sorry it wasn’t me. I was concerned she would go into an episode of depression and hoped he was keeping her safe. I longed to reach out to her with some words of comfort but knew I couldn’t because she did not want me. I hoped so much he knew how to take care of her like I would.
I remember her posting a picture one day, New Year’s Eve, of her and him cuddled on her sofa together, her head resting on him. Her caption was something like “My main man{and his name}, I couldn’t have done this year without you.” I had mixed emotions about it. Part of me was thankful she had someone helping her through her difficult year. But so much of me was in anguish that I wasn’t in his position. It was an inner struggle of true love being happy for her but a selfish pain that it wasn’t me making her happy and giving her love and receiving her love. I experienced both gratitude and resentment for him. I would so so much prefer her to have him than no one and even have him over me if it’s what she genuinely wanted. But I wanted her to want me.
I was so pissed when he changed his Facebook and Instagram default photos to a picture of just her.
“I see you driving round town with the girl I love, and I’m like fuck you.” 😆😆
I was in so much pain every day and night. Emotionally and physically. The rejection triggered the two months long depressive episode to begin with. But through the years every once in a while I would go into another episode, usually lasting a month, about it. It would lift, and I would go back to the regular pain about it. I lived a regular happy life in general, just carried this pain with me that would flare once in a while.
Sometimes I would go a while without looking at her content or thinking of her much, then would look at her social media account, and a depressive episode/wave would be triggered. Or sometimes I would be in a low mood that I call a gateway state to depression; it’s not depression itself or even necessarily unhappiness but a tender state where I can feel if I’m not careful, I can become depressed. If I would think too much about her or check her social media accounts/blogs in this state, a depressive episode or wave could hit. This happened off and on til I was no longer interested in her.
My head throbbed relentlessly and the heartache was unbearable. I clung to anything I could for any bit of consolation. The main thing I found solace in was reading. I threw myself into books and read more than I ever read before. Mystery thrillers that kept me guessing what would happen next, intellectual readings to keep my mind active and thinking, personal development books that gave me tips for coping… anything to take my mind off her and my depression.
It was a mixture of grief and depression and it was Hell on Earth. Everything I read I would wish I could tell her about. She loved to read, too. I wanted to read books together and have hours long discussions. Every love song, I thought of her.
She had very low self esteem, body image issues, and bad luck with relationships. She dated people of any genders but especially men and had no luck. This is something that was getting to her. She said she felt lonely and left out everywhere, and I wanted to run to her rescue. I felt that I could make up for all those failed relationships of hers with all the love I had to give. I’m not this arrogant anymore.
She knocked me down a few pegs and I never quite got back up. Today, I don’t feel I have anything any woman could want or need. I don’t feel I’m loveable and think any woman can do better.
I used to be very arrogant, way back when. I thought I was all that and a bag of skittles. I remembered constantly feeling that arrogance, wearing it like a badge. I cringe now. I thought anyone who truly knew me, the real me, would love me. I thought I could heal people and make up for what they lost or have been lacking. To be this arrogant and show someone I would lay down my own life for, the deepest parts of myself, the authentic me, and being rejected was more than I could bear.
It shook my sense of self. Suddenly, I felt good enough for no one. I stopped complimenting people as much, stopped offering hugs, stopped showing up for anyone, feeling like I had nothing to offer. I’m glad she put me in my place and knocked me off of the pedestal I placed myself on because no one has any place being that full of themselves. I only wish it just humbled me, but instead, it gave me some self-esteem/worth issues.
The rejection of someone I loved with every fiber of my being and was ready and willing to love wholeheartedly, it just cuts so deeply and hits hard. She was a very emotionally unhealthy and complicated person when I think back, full of insecurities, and I longed to put them all to rest. I wanted to make her better so she wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, because I loved her and she was a good person.
She was a trainwreck, and it probably wouldn’t have been all rainbows and butterflies to get to love her, though I still would. Love isn’t supposed to be all perfection and happiness. (It shouldn’t be toxic either though, and thinking back, I have an inkling it could have been, with her, but I thought I would be able to calm her and make it so we have an easy love and life together) I loved her unconditionally.
I felt we were made to belong to each other. Like we were written in the stars. Sometimes on very rare occasions I have a feeling like there was a glitch somewhere in the uni-verse and we were made for each other but that glitch interfered. I don’t actually believe this, just a metaphor or something for a feeling I have.
Sometimes I wonder if there was some freak string of coincidental glitches in algorithms or something and she did not receive my messages and also accidentally got off my friends list. This can happen. Someone can accidentally get unfriended/unfollowed on social media. It has happened to me before. When I was sending her the e-mails, they wouldn’t go through at first. It kept saying there was an unexpected error, and I had to keep resending. But they did show up in my sent box, eventually. So they seemed to have gone through. It’s more likely she did receive them and unfriended my account. It seems too coincidental to get unfriended so close to after sending e-mails.
Sometimes when I think it could have been a mistake and she never received it because of a glitch in e-mail systems, and FB had some glitch, I experience a physiological reaction, a clenching in my gut, a dizzy sickly sensation, a fear sensation in my chest, an almost sweating sensation in the palms of my hands, to think it’s possible she could have loved me and we could have been together forever but it was prevented by a glitch. Though sometimes this thought has thrilled me, thinking there could still be a chance. Maybe I’ll run into her on the streets one day and she’ll send my heart racing and she’ll remember me and approach me first and all the stars will align and we’ll finally be together for the rest of forever. And one day I’ll tell her and we’ll laugh about it. A girl can dream.
But other occasions I was so mortified at the thought of rejection and looking clingy and overly sappy, that I preferred that she just did not see them than rejected me. For the most part now, I’m indifferent. It’s like either way, whatevz. Though it seems a bit unfortunate if she just did not see my messages. What a potentially beautiful thing possibly destroyed before it ever came to be, all because of a couple online glitches.
It was probably just all my sap was a big turn off lol 😆 Or it could have been the age thing, I guess. I’m her age when we first met, and I wouldn’t give a 21 year old a second glance either lol
So much of the obsession and pain was about not getting to have any contact with her but seeing her whole life displayed across my phone screen and along with that, knowing she did not like me, even just a little bit, when I found her to be so amazing. She was so open about herself and life and constantly shared. Even if she was just a customer at my job back then who chatted with me once in a while, I would have loved it. But we weren’t in each other’s lives at all, never even talked online much.
Last year, 15+ years since seeing her in person, and just less than 10 years after last seeing her social media content or hearing anything about her, I decided to look up her Instagram account. Writing that story about her just rekindled some interest. I know a lot can change in a decade. But I knew her so well all those years ago, that I knew her account would still be public. We both have always said we would never have our accounts not public.
My hands trembled as I searched her name. My body felt like jelly. My mouth dried up. My heart raced. I was terrified of what I may find. She was so s.uicidal so frequently, I feared she may have taken her own life at some point through the years. I begged the uni-verse to not let it be so, even though I did not believe it has that power. I also feared what emotions & love may come flooding back to destroy me. Even though I haven’t seen her in years and we were never friends, the fear that she could be gone, was the same as if I was waiting to see about my close friend or family member.
Her Instagram account was still public. And she was very much alive and doing well! It made me so happy. At close to 60 years old, she is as beautiful & youthful as I remember, now rockin’ some beautiful grey hair. It was surreal to see some of the same old posts of hers I saw 10+ years ago and remembered like it was yesterday.
Memories came back but no longing. Seeing snapshots of her life and pictures of her now did not affect me. There is one post I saw, though, that felt like a hard slap in the face. A picture of her with lifelong friends and a caption that says “Some people are meant to be in your life forever.” I couldn’t help but wonder all over again why not me, what do they have that I don’t, what does she not see in me that it’s not worth being my friend, or what does see she in me that she doesn’t like yet loves everyone else. That was just a fleeting thought.
I never looked again after that once last year. No point. We’ll never be friends, she set a boundary with me when she unfriended me all those years ago. I was afraid also of accidentally liking a post of hers or Instagram start suggesting to her that we be friends lol I would die. She’s the kind of person who keeps tabs on people she ghosts or hardly knew, so she could still be looking at mine.
But recently, something strange happened that rocked my world. It affected me more than I imagined it would. And i can’t seem to shake it. There was a moment where I thought “I am not ok.” I was doing research on Philadelphia history, a topic we both love. I was looking up a particular topic and saw a news article come up. The preview was inspiring & heartwarming. It hit me in a tender place and tugged on my heartstrings. It gave me a feeling of “home.” I felt connected to whoever wrote it. I felt like we knew each other. There was a familiar knowing. Like in a “spiritual” sense. Or a soul connection way, not necessarily like we met before in the flesh.
I was going to use it in my own post, giving credit to the author. Then I noticed the source. I remembered she was once a writer for them, and this topic was something close to her heart. I felt a surge of fear. I just knew she was going to be the author. I clicked on it, and sure enough, it was a piece she wrote some years ago. She always added a deeply personal touch to even her professional pieces, pouring her heart & soul into them. It could be the most professional, cold, clinical, official topic, and she would make it human.
I read it, and remembered why I loved her all those years ago. I began to mourn all those years we weren’t friends. I have buried them deep within, but still, their ghosts haunt me. All that wondering why came flooding back. We were so intellectually & emotionally aligned and compatible. It ripped open old wounds to see that article and the author’s name. I felt a dam deep within, threatening to break, unleashing all that old love and pain. And I felt the lack of that kind of connection with another woman in my own life today. I miss her. I miss loving her when there was still potential to be loved back.
Finding her again, out in the wild, sort of, was bittersweet. She’ll always be one of my soulmates, and a place in my heart will always be reserved just for her ❤️
I desire you more than food and drink
My body my senses my mind hunger for your taste
I can sense your presence in my heart although you belong to all the world
I wait with silent passion for one gesture one glance from you
Under a dark sky Swirling with tattered dreams He stands alone A man held captive By the relentless, throbbing ache Dwelling in some place Deep within Unidentifiable Like the wreckage of a ship Crashing in the night
His oceanic eyes piercing The darkness inside me Reflecting the heavy pain that breathes In me As if it were alive Pulsing like my heartbeat And the blood that runs through me
A silent captain of his painted ship Under the stars as they clash Into a stormy chaotic mess Colors colliding with the dark fantasies of A man lost in the night Amongst the ruin Of a beautiful, shattered mind
Navigating the tempestuous winds of his mind Where stars pulsate through his veins heartbeats that journey through the contorted galaxies of a lonely traveler of the night Each glow, a wish he cannot grasp A wish that stays untrue Always just out of reach
His fingertips almost lightly brush The softness Of each twinkle of hope Like a dandelion Dissolving The gentle wisps floating away in the wind Taking with it each wish That never blossoms Into fruition
Voiceless and invisible He speaks in colors Like distorted rainbows Across a midnight sky Messages that speak to the emptiness in me Filling it with hints of hope in the shape of stars like paint splashing the canvas of my mind Each swift brush of his hand across sterile white Small specks of gold Glittering in all the dark
And as each color in his mind implodes Like erupting volcanoes in his soul He is kicked back into the darkness Of the depths & valleys of his Torn up mind Like an endless abyss Chromatic but full of colorless voids That swallow the untouched parts of him They could never love
His cries go unheard His pleas falling on deaf ears But still he loves With wild abandon With every color he can muster All the passion in his eyes
The night wraps around him Like a cloak of black velvet its silence heavy Weighing on a fragile life That cannot bear the storms His brush dances A lonely pirouette across the canvas Colors bleeding like unsaid sorrows And unsung songs
A masterpiece.
Yellow bursts like distant laughter That was once near Now just a memory Tinted in grey Orange flames of sunsets he never saw Blue whispers of cold nights enveloping him in Snowy fields of Glistening white Wistful violet sighs of nostalgic joy Remnants now scattered about In the echoes of forlorn nights Red for every moment his heart loved
Each stroke, a confession each hue, a tear spilling into the craters The voids no one else could feel Splashing onto the world In silent drops
He paints the cosmos The vein of each galaxy Every pulse that dances Upon his wrists Like an almost inaudible whisper Taunting him With empty promises Of a world of endless color Bursting open All over the grey & black of his reality
He questions the beauty of night dappled in stars That shine in some other world That can never be his
He slouches As he walks crushed beneath the heaviness Of their accusations
Scattered green leaves beneath his feet the summer breeze carries the scent of loneliness The solemn embrace of solitude while crickets strum their evening lullabies and the night holds its breath As if to brace itself for what’s to come watching this fragile soul Too weak to go on pain and passion gifted, yet cursed beneath a soft symphony of stars & moonlight
A solitary figure A shadow in the night lost in the vastness of existence he finds comfort in chaos in the explosion of colors that speak what words cannot That step up When his voice fails a man, a night Darkness with light a uni-verse held in the heart of a painter A tormented soul
Tragic tales coming to life with every stroke of the brush every drop of paint, a story of its own bursting with all the glory and despair a heart can hold
Each brushstroke A testament to the madness the unadulterated beauty That lies within Untamed passion Like a tiger in the night Seeking unexpecting prey To satiate the hunger That arises in the deepest depths Of his gut And never seems quite abated
His heart, a kaleidoscopic collage His canvas, a mirror reflecting His fractured spirit His splintered mind That cuts into his flesh The inky sky in all its depth & expanse, his only companion a canvas waiting for release
And when all hope was lost On that starry, starry night Vincent lay broken Under the twinkling stars A loud bang ringing in the night Ripping through the sky A riot of colors spilling out Under the black of night His heart gushing every color There ever was and every painting that never came to be His paintbrush falling to the ground Dripping red
Clutching his chest Until all the colors turned black as the midnight sky The life pouring out of him Beneath the dying stars Withering away
Eyes closed now As he drifts off Where all the colors Permanently sleep And his canvas remains untouched White like the ghosts that haunted his mind
He lays shrouded in eternal slumber Escaping a world that was never meant For the immaculate beauty Of a tender soul Too fragile, too soft To face the ruins Of a tormented mind
And I hear him now In the whispers of the wind Singing in colors That soothe my darkness Sweetmelodies,muting the pain That creeps in through the cracks Of a broken mindand a ragged life The hues linger Like a fragrant mist Upon supple skin I carry them with me Embedded deep in my heart Flowing out with each beat Onto everything I touch
A splash of color Immortal Against the black and grey Forever haunting A place in the night Where an artist once stood Under the stars Confessing his pain His dreams His deepest loves & longings In a disarray of color To a color blind world
And when no hope was left in sight On that starry, starry night You took your life As lovers often do But I could have told you, Vincent This world was never meant For one as beautiful as you 🖤
Wide awake Shrouded in the suffocating loneliness That old familiar companion That never leaves her side Her mind drifts to a long ago That is so out of reach now it’s almost Too painful to remember Her body heavy with the memories Of what used to be Before things got so dark It feels like another life One that wasn’t hers Could never be hers
A million lifetimes ago Like another dimension Where a different version of herself exists A happier version Knowing only innocence & love
The nostalgia leaves her breathless
Knocking the wind out of her Painful & joyful alike
She lays beneath her soft silken sheets
Feeling like a distorted replica of her former self
A contorted character in a dark novel, an empty shell of what used to be
As if her life were a convoluted storyinspired by some distant reality that was once hers
Just when her despair Reaches a new depth I find myself seeping into the cracks Of her shattered mind Uninvited Creeping into her darkest spaces Taking up residence in her darkness Feeling it surrounding me Like a midnight melody Somber, sweet, aching
She hears me humming the song She wrote As she bolts upright in her bed Trying to discern If her midnight serenade is real or A figment of her sad imagination I journey through all the crevices of her brain, therecesses of her mind,and all the delicate veins, tracing the curves of her body with my tender touch Trying to learn all of her ways All of her secrets The intimate longings of her heart So I can sing them back to her
Mirroring her own love And showering her in it Like a waterfall of nectar cascading over Her rocky, tumultuous world And soothing the darkness in her soul
My humming gets louder As she gets up and walks to the doorway She hears my voice up the hall Gently singing the song in her bones
One hand on the doorframe, she tentatively looks down the dark hallway, afraid of what she may see but her curiosity too strong to quell
Seeing my slender silhouette on the cream colored curtain, doing starlit pirouettes My long hair blowing in the breeze She freezes And blinks As I vanish into the night She opens her eyes And in that fraction of a second I am gone She walks along the hall til she reaches the opened window And stares at the now blank curtain blowing softly As moonlight drifts in
She reaches out
And touches the curtain
Gently rubbing her hand down the soft fabric
Pulling it aside to look in back
Confusion written all over her face As she looks around, peering into the darkness Of the hall The darkness matching the darkness within She begins to slowly walk back to her room Her hair hanging softly down her back Resting against herpastel pink lacey lingerie top That reveals the soft smoothivory skin beneath
Her lips are full & pink Glistening As she calls out To whatever apparition Lurks in her darkness I whisper her name Into her ear So lightly Like the breeze That creeps in through the window
She jumps And shudders A chill running up her spine As she walks back to the window And closes it The curtains now hanging Still, lifeless
Her bare feet make a soft padding sound Against the wooden floorboards as they creak in the night I silently float beside her My mind connecting with hers She can’t see me But she can feel me In every breath she takes She turns to the side and catches my shadow As I instantly disappear
She can hear my soothing voice Caressing the shards of her mind And feel my loving embrace Around her shoulders She pulls away Unsure if it’s real or imagined I move closer Until my hair falls over her shoulder Like a shadow in the night My glossed red lips Just barely touch her cheek As she quickly reaches up And brushes her cheek with her hand
She turns, abruptly
And we are face to face
So close, she can feel my breath in her face
Like the kiss of a midnight breeze
She sees through me
Then for a moment our eyes seem to meet
Just for one infinitesimal moment
A knowing look suddenly crosses her face Like a fleeting light Piercing the darkness Then fading away As quickly as it appeared
She turns and walks briskly back To her bedroom And slams the door Shutting me out Willing me out of her mind Out of her awareness Out of her blo0dstream Out of her soul
Her darkness closes in And suffocates me Pulling me into an endless abyss I fall and fall Free falling Flailing And crashing back into my own World Without her All encompassing pain Taking over As I lay Rejected & defeated The ache Taking over As I lay in my bed late into the night I can feel her in the shadows That surround the night And I wonder if I’m haunting her Tonight
Memories of me filling her mind Memories of a love that never was A love that could have been but ended before it began Memories & longings she wishes only to banish
I lay in my darkness Dreaming of her In the moonlight Memoriesof longago Of youthful, hopeful dreams now shattered, swirl around in my head as if to taunt me As she haunts me Tantalized by her wild beauty Pulled into an endless night Where I live in her nightmares Aching for something Homesick for a place that never existed For a person never meant to be mine Grieving for an old love That nevertruly lived
But burns in me like a fire
That can’t be tamed
(I’m disappointed with how this poem is structured. But jetpack/WordPress won’t let me write a sentence or a few words and hit the enter or down key and have another sentence directly under it. It puts a space. I had to write this in my phone’s memo section and paste it here. But I decided to edit & add things. When I added a new sentence, it couldn’t be right under the one before it when I hit the enter key or whatever the key is called now to go to the space below a sentence or word. I saw someone else expressing the same problem while trying to write poems. For paragraphs in regular writing, like this, we don’t have toskip to underneath, but poems & songs are structured differently.
If I were to write a poem directly here instead of writing somewhere else and pasting it here
It
would
be
like
this.
Who wants all those spaces after each word or sentence in a song or poem? I always find myself rereading & editing my poems for days and days. I think it’s done and paste here then realize more work can be done. And when I edit them here, I have to have spaces or begin a whole new blog post because when I delete everything in the current one, the structure is still all messed up. We shouldn’t have all that extra work to post a poem. There are so many other glitches with this app and website too. It’s an ongoingissue for years no matter which phone I use. Sometimes it almost feels like it’s more trouble than it’s worth, but I like having this space to share things. It’s different than regular social media, and sometimes my posts are too long to fit in a social media post. So I keep this around. I’m going to upgrade it when I get money. It feels kind of ironic that I’m complaining that something is more trouble than it’s worth and in the same breath saying I’m going to invest money in it to keep around lol)
Random pic lol It seems fitting because he looks liberated, and to me writing is liberating.
It’s empowering and cathartic and a way to immortalize ourselves. When we put pen to paper or fingertips to a keyboard, we freeze a part of ourselves in time. It will last long after we do. It’s also a great way to organize our thoughts and clear our mind even if what we write is all over the place. I also feel that it’s a form of self validation. When there’s something, an emotion, a thought, an experience, an opinion floatingaround in our head or body, putting it in writing gives it a space, makes it tangible in a way.I love its healing effect. I know speaking can do this too, but for me, writing is more powerful.
I have always been much better at expressing things through writing than speaking. Thoughts and details just come to me more frequently and easily through writing. And when I write something, I can re read it and edit or add more before sharing with others.
A while ago I shared a post about my real experience with rejection many years before. I did not realize just how much that experience needed an outlet until I wrote about it. Speaking in words can also be healing, but to put it in writing I was able to express in more details.
Here are some excerpts out of that post:
“Writing this gives me life. It makes me so happy to put all my pain and love into words. To give a voice to this experience that has haunted me for years. An experience that I thought ruined me for life. An experience I thought reduced me to less of the woman I was before her. But it actually gave me more depth, substance, and gave me a story. My own unique story. I am glad for it. I just can’t wait to put my story out into the uni-verse. To give it the space it’s worthy of. For years I thought it was something to keep all inside. I thought it was bad and wrong and humiliating and should be erased out of history. I thought it should die with me. But that’s not true. It’s part of me. It happened. It molded me into what I am. And it’s ok to give it space, to give it a name, to give it life.“
“I’m thankful now for the opportunity to be able to put into words as best as I can, what I did not have the nerve or ability to back then. I thought I would take this to my grave. Writing it is healing.“
“So here is my story! I found it so healing and enlightening to revisit and write. I did not realize how I still had some pent up emotion surrounding this experience. Writing this story healed me in ways I did not realize I still needed healing almost ten years after the rejection. It was cathartic, and there were pent up emotions, wounds needing an outlet, needing a voice, needing validation, needing to be honored, held. I am so thankful I got the opportunity and found the courage to put into words and share what I never thought I could.“
Another thing I like about writing is the opportunity for reading it. I love reading what I wrote, especially poems, sometimes even a long while later. I usually prefer reading over listening. I prefer to read my words than listen to a recording or watch a YouTube video. This is also true for books I read written by others.
There’s just something beautiful about the written word.
As I write this letter Send my love to you Remember that I’ll always Be in love with you Treasure these few words ’til we’re together Keep all my love forever P.S. I love you ❤️
This is my own photo I created to go with the poem I wrote, below. 🖤
This poem is called LovingLisbeth.
Loving Lisbeth
Night falls And the echoes begin again Somewhere beneath a shimmery moon As the city lights dance In the night I hear them Bouncing off The shadows That cling To the skyscrapers Under the inky depths Of the night sky Echoes of a voice I used to know And unrequited love That still burns In a heart That can’t let go
I remember her so long ago Calling out to the skyline As we looked up At the imposing structures We both have always loved so much As they dwarfed us Until we were as small as the ants Scurrying about in the cracks of the Pavements Beneath our shoes
Calling As if they were some kind Of saviors Come to rescue her Scooping her up Into their concrete arms And cradling her Like a newborn Safe in the shelter Of her mother’s loving embrace
There was some kind of Comfort there Some kind of reassurance In the familiarity of the same Buildings Night after night Some kind of comfort In the repetition Of the mirrored windows Lighting up the night
In feeling so small Against the large constructs That held us in their presence As they stood so firmly Smugly In purpose Looking down at us As if their mission was Always accomplished With ease Without fail
She called up to them
But there was no answer There was never an answer Just her own voice Echoing through the city In the still of the night Under a darkened sky Resembling the murky waters Of an abandoned and forgotten lake In some desolate remote place No one knows exists
I stand here now Listening to the forlorn echoes As they clash and yearn Spewing out dark melodies And symphonies Like a twilight serenade Gone awry
And somewhere I hear her voice Now, just a ghost of a whisper Riding the gentle night air Like music notes Barely audible
But I know it’s hers
I call out to her But there is no answer
I call again And her name Gets caught in my throat And I choke On the pain Of yearning For what used to be But never really was
An apparition Of some long ago That exists Only in the dark blur Of my mind
I feel her somewhere out there Somewhere deep into the bowels Of the night Somewhere in the midst of The street lights and the city lights And the night dwellers Taking up residence on the lonely streets And the subways and the park benches Among a crowd of wandering strangers With nowhere else to go I scan every face I see But none of them are hers I call her name But no one turns to look at me
I search and search
But I have yet to find her I search the seemingly endless City streets Late into the night Like a maze That there is no way out of I call But she doesn’t call back
I run alone Through the back alleys And the dead end streets The cobblestones And empty parking lots Peering through the darkened Windows of the closed cafes And restaurants and stores The soles of my shoes Pounding against the ground As I run And my heart Pounds in my cranium Thudding Like a drum Vibrating my eardrums
My breath, raspy And shallow As I yell out to the night air
I call And search Her name, Tantalizing and tasting bittersweet Upon my lips Like droplets of white wine lingering about
I frantically turn in every direction Searching every corner In a desperate
panicked haze As I yell her name As if my life depends on it As if she were a lifeboat Needed to save me Carrying me out of dismal swamp Back onto land Where I stand Looking up at those skyscrapers Under a black sky Calling Calling her name
But the only sound I hear Is my own name Calling back to me
🖤
I hope you are having a great morning or night or day wherever in the world you are!! ♥️
Have any of your own poetry or poetry blog? You’re welcome to share in the comments!
AI & glitch artwork created by me to go with this poem 🖤
Standing here alone In the shadows of a distant memory That still burns in me Like hot steel Branding the flesh of my existence Her name tattooed into my cells I can’t escape her touch Marked for life The grief Expands in me like an airbag in my chest Til there is no more space And I struggle for breath My ribcage threatening to break Under the pressure Like a starshower Crumbing out of the sky Hot celestial pieces Falling Upon anything unlucky enough To be in the way Burning flesh Setting fire to surface Bringing everything to ruin
She’s always one heartbeat away One step out of reach I remember her hair Falling to her shoulders Blowing in the wind As her tears fell softly Like silent raindrops in the night Her eyeliner running down her cheeks Like mudtracks in pure white snow Those tears that spoke a thousand words Whispering into the night A somber melody Almost inaudible But caressing All the deepest depths of me
I carry her in my bones a melancholy ache accompanying my every step Invisible like a phantom in the night that lurks at my side like a distorted shadow supposed to be mine But isn’t
I am consumed by the dark Overshadowed by pain Til there Is almost no trace of what I was Before her Smothered in the aftermath Of a hurricane Washed away in the turmoil With no anchor
I stand here in these shadows Under the glow of the moon My long hair blowing in the gentle evening breeze As my eyes search the night For her But she’s nowhere to be found
But I feel her in everything there is The city lights remind me of the twinkle in her eyes As they lit up with everything she loved The bookstores, the cafes, the buildings, they speak her name as I walk by Almost as if to taunt me with reminders of everything that will never be mine Dreams that danced upon my pulse as it raced through me, promises of a life that are now crumbled like flowers crushed beneath the soles of my shoes But leaving tantalizing hints of their perfume in every step I take
Our hearts beat in synch I breathe her air And her tears run down my cheeks with the gentle rain that kisses my skin With its somber soft touch, tasting the salt as it covers my red lipsticked lips and caresses the tip of my tongue
I remember her bright hazel eyes smiling Through thick rimmed glasses As she spoke about the last novel she read Full of heartache and love and redemption I watched her hair fall over her glasses As she absentmindedly brushed it back I remember the way she came alive Whenever it rained And the city looked like a watercolor Painting A kaleidoscopic disarray Of all the colors of the rainbow The way her camera couldn’t capture Enough pictures And that joy lives in me somewhere Like a bittersweet song Playing in my bones Running through my veins
And I am here now In this other life Where she doesn’t exist Worlds apart But somehow only One chaotic breath away Drowning in memories Lifetimes away Lost in the shadows Of a love That could never be
🖤
Anyone else want to share your own poetry? You’re welcome in the comments! Or share a link to your poetry blog. I especially love dark poetry or sci fi/futuristic, mysterious…but any kind is welcome!
I hope you are having a beautiful day or night wherever in the world you are!
A Dose of Inspiration 