To the most beautiful girl I have ever seen

Confession #1

To the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,

It’s been four years now, Avery. I hate myself to admit it but I think about you every hour, every minute, every second. I am a clown but it is the very truth. The tick of my watch is excruciating as it is a reminder of another second without you. People frequently use the term, ‘it sits at the back of my mind.’ But you…you thrive at the front of mine. Even as a tick passes, you seem to grow louder, brighter till I see, think, hear nothing else. I know you have very well moved on with a new boyfriend. You got a dog together and he cooks for you better than I ever did. I heard he is terribly rich and even more terribly good looking. For every chatter I hear of the two of you my heart aches more. Everything aches. I should have been more for you and maybe we would still be together.

No one compares to you. I have to let you go like you let me go. I struggle to free myself from the binds of your anchor. The thought of our never-to-be future consumes my soul. We could of had it all. Adopted a kid, gone to America and grown old together. Even the oak tree we saved persists in my thoughts. As I spend my days sitting under it, I hurt much more than you could imagine. How will I ever forget you? Even in four years, you remain ever present and formidable. Even if I ever move on, I know you are permanent.

Our time has gone. I would sell my soul and more for the world to transport me back to the night we met at the moonlit dinner party. I would propose to you right then and there. In another life, if I ever get to see you again just know that I will be better in every way you want. In another life, we would be the greatest love the world has seen.

You said I was an experience, a journey for growth. To me, you were everything. In the years to come, I hope you find this confession in the midst of the internet. When you read it, you will know it was for you, Avery. I love you.

From Anonymous

Spain, 25

Submit your own stories, confession, compliments or ask for advice. Anyone can write anything they want.

Confession #2

I hate my father.

Not in a playful hate kind of way. I hate hate hate him. Where do I begin? He does not help my mom out with anything. He lazes around watching TV and disappears to the gym at night. I know he is cheating I have to prove it to my mum. He showers and brushes his teeth before leaving. One time he left during the day for five hours. He originally said he was going to meet up with Pete to get advice for gym. When he came back home I asked him the same question and he changed it. This time he said he was visiting Andy at the hospital. Either way neither of the excuses were worth up to five hours. There have been so many scenarios of this, but my mum refuses to believe it.

She tells me she is stressed out of her mind managing properties, cars, bills and taxes without a single piece of advice from my father. She cooks and cleans for him without a single thank you or please. My father takes over half the house with a bedroom, bathroom and study to himself as my mum and him no longer sleep together. That half of the house is disgusting, not even a pig would want to live in it. The floor is covered with a layer of dust, the toilet and shower are moldy, there are dirty clothes everywhere. It has been like that for years and years. It is the only place my mum refuses to clean. We have one other bathroom in the house and he does not use his own bathroom but the bathroom my sister, brother, mum and I all share.

He brushes his teeth, does his business and everything in there. He has put all his stuff of the towel rack and if we move it he will get angry. To the rest of the world he is perceived as such a good husband and father. They have the vision that he does everything in the house as that is what he tells them.

I really want him out. I hate my father.

Just wanted to put this out there as a confession.

From Anonymous

Australia, 22

Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support our mission of sharing stories of the world.