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Dear INFP,

It turns out that a really healthy version of your type can match so incredibly well with an unhealthy version of my type like me. Maybe one day my anxiety and doubt and overthinking will subside, but until that point... just thank you for understanding me, and more importantly thank you for being the love of my life. Thank you for being the wonderfully creative, loving and patient person you are.

Sincerely,
a very grateful INFJ
 

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Dear INFJ,

I adore your being. You're like a butterfly, with a switch blade. You're beautiful but could easily hurt me. And I don't mind that one bit.
 
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Canvas of Your Alias <name subject to change>

Dear J.L.,

Truer love is none other than this: to call you by your real name,
Instead of the blackened, tainted alias you jokingly use to introduce yourself to everyone.
A counterfeit name composed of three letters, of which no one else knows the reason nor the weight,
Not even your new girlfriend.

Who knew such a black canvas could be hidden, masked behind three simple letters of an alias?
That nickname dragged you through the mud, buried you beneath a persona you carried on your back.
With your arms as a paintbrush, you reached for all the flawed colors:
Red of instant anger, white of silent scorn, pink of a two-faced lover, blue of drowned-out words, green of fermenting envy, purple of dying passion.

I still remember when you revealed the meaning of your alias to me 6 years ago.
Young in our twenties on top of the world, you carried me on your back instead of that canvas, sprinting to seize the vantage point.
Your race against time for a reason to live had all the wrong colors mixed black together.
Blood, sweat, tears: you desperately painted over your life, trying to erase the sins with the color of your own soul.

Seeing your efforts back then, how could one not call you by your real name? Yet, I was the only one who did.

I cleaned my room today. Wiped down the dust around the sofa bed you stayed at during your visit last year.
Do you remember how you broke one of the sofa legs?
I hadn't cleaned this area. Half out of fear that your existence would disappear, half out of disbelief that you were already gone.
Off came the layers of boxes, clothes, and papers piled up, hiding the things I am not ready to face.

One by one, effort by effort, weight by weight, your place of rest comes into view.
I wrap the blanket around me, hiding underneath the covers once last time, searching for a familiar smell.
But through the tears that obstructs and hinders my senses, I cannot remember if this was you,
Or just the dust of a forgotten, empty bed of someone left behind.

With shaking hands, I tore off the bed covers too, tearing my heart in two at each bed-frame corner.
Slowly, slowly, not wanting to disturb the small fragments I had left of you, I searched for the last of your remaining presence.
Are you here? Ah! There! Even when you are not present, you still find ways to surprise me with your spontaneity!
But as quickly as your scent appeared, you left again, leaving me with a quiet laugh, a silent tear, faint echos that you are no longer near.

Was I a lighter load to carry than those three letters of your nickname?
Does the canvas of your soul carry brighter, warmer, lighter colors because I was once there?
Wiping away the last of your presence, I gently erase the proof that you once existed so colorfully in my life.
Finally, I can see the bright white of the underlying sofa bed. And only white. It is a new canvas, this time mine to carry.

My only hope is that your smile is genuine now.
That you can run freely without your black canvas, without your three-lettered facade, without a burden like me.
That your decision to grow towards your career is considered with pure joy, as you face trials of many kinds.
The hardest thing I've ever said is not "Goodbye," but, "Take care of yourself and eat well." For in those words I have forgiven you.

I am a candle worn out, after trying its' best, to share it's small light, to your eyes in distress.
For this candle knows, the source of its' warmth, is not from its' own, but from God's love known.
Truer love is none other than this: to still call you by your real name,
Even though I cannot call you anymore.


Sincerely,
N.Y.O.N.
 

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Dear ISFJ,

Haaaaaaay gurl haaay

Sincerely,
Phil
 

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Dear Mama,

02/21

happy birthday! i love you. :*

sometimes when it gets too cold here, i close my eyes and dream about your warm embraces. but i never remember my dreams, and i don't like counting, but it's been four years since the last time i hugged and kissed you on this special day.

the cold freezes anything but grief, and the winter seems endless.
and i miss you so so much.


:heart:
 

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Dear Mama,

02/21

happy birthday! i love you. :*

sometimes when it gets too cold here, i close my eyes and dream about your warm embraces. but i never remember my dreams, and i don't like counting, but it's been four years since the last time i hugged and kissed you on this special day.

the cold freezes anything but grief, and the winter seems endless.
and i miss you so so much.


:heart:
:heart:
 

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Hay or hey? IS SHE A HORSE PHIL ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH A HORSE?!
Don't kink shame me please :crying:

 
:laughing: You made me literally laugh out loud
 

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Dear Mama,

02/21

happy birthday! i love you. :*

sometimes when it gets too cold here, i close my eyes and dream about your warm embraces. but i never remember my dreams, and i don't like counting, but it's been four years since the last time i hugged and kissed you on this special day.

the cold freezes anything but grief, and the winter seems endless.
and i miss you so so much.


:heart:

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Let not the cold also freeze your warm, kindful heart nor your hands that are still alive to hug and to hold. However far the sunlight may seem right now, it is not endless, and will one day give way to spring.

Mama loves you too. :heart:
 

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Dear Peter,

You've been gone since last August and I truly do miss you. Keep thinking of all the wonderful memories I had with you. You always knew how to make me laugh. Anytime my Mom cries over you, it breaks my heart. There's been a few times where I broke down and cried, but I know it's all about healing and moving forward. It's still hard to do sometimes, but I'll always miss you. You took me to my first Deftones concert and I will always remember that. I love you and miss you Peter. :heart:
 

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Dear Human - That - Called - Me - Their - Bestie - Without - My - Consent, and - Whose - Mental - Stability - I - Would - Question,
I actually miss your neediness + communication a lot. It sux that we aren't around each other anymore, and that you were like, the only human I met that actually understood me on an emotional level. I have no idea how to bring that back, and my greatest fear has begun, where our friendship fades away....cos' it's not the same, "She writes, as tears seep out of her eyes, in her world of constant realism, where lies no fantasy."
 

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Dear INFJ,

You make my days go better and I hope you see this and it makes your day go better too :proud:
 

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Dear INFJ,

It's weird. I still don't know how you rewrote years of friendship in your head. I don't know how everything we went through could be gone like that, and I became a liar to you overnight. It broke my heart. And even though I left for emotional health, I still think of you every day.

History wasn't rewritten in my head. I still remember all the good stuff in our friendship too. It's balanced. I also remember the bad. But I accept that because you had so much good in you, I'm going to miss you. I'm going to wish it didn't have to go the way it did, every day.

I'm going to miss a rare connection I had with another person, and wonder every day how that was so easily thrown away.

Love,
Confused INTP
 

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Dear phone

Why would you let me do a perfect recording and then hide it away for me like it vanished. This makes me furious, 'cause it will never be as good or the same as the first recording. Why? Just why?

Sincerely your owner
 

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Dear my INFJ partner, stop trying to be perfect all the time, you just get worn out and become the opposite of who you are, and become quite selfish. Take time to vent your frustrations from time to time and say no to thing. 90% of time perfect and 10% of the time an angry mess is worse than 50% loving and 50% self-caring.

<3
 

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Dearest Sei,

How long are you going to cry over them? They will never understand. Even if a miracle happened, and everything went according to plan, they will not change their minds about you. The decisions have been made. It's over. You're dead to them, and they're dead to you.

If you're not gonna burn those rotten corpses, I'll burn you along with them myself.

You will die anyway, if you keep on doing this. There's nothing more you can do about people who know you, and still choose to reject you. Those people are not worth your time, energy and tears. So stop spending yourself... It's breaking my heart even more...
 

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Dear A,

I am wondering how you might be doing in this lockdown. Lots of warmth and love!

Forever yours,
M
 
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