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To my beautiful girls,

Hi <3 It has been entirely too long.

Kesh, Danger might your middle name, but it sounds like it shouldn’t be your last. A month and a half away from the ‘biggest’ birthday of my so-called life, I met someone who literally thinks that the world shits rainbows. “Every morning when I wake up,” he told me, “I just touch the back of my neck, and I’m just so happy to be alive. It’s just so awesome.”

Coming from anyone else, I would have thought this the statement of a nut case. Coming from him, it’s different. He has slowly made me realize that to be happy, you need nothing but good music and enough food to get by. You don’t need anyone. You don’t need anything. You need yourself and your sanity (I suppose that sanity is optional, too).

Anyway, the point is that you don’t need someone else, and you shouldn’t live your life for other people. Maybe he was what you needed at that time you met, but since then you’ve changed and what you need him to be for you has changed. It’s not your responsibility to stand posed on a pedestal for him to admire and seek protection from.

While I do think that we have a responsibility not to harm others, I don’t think that letting him go would hurt him. Not in the long run anyway.

Punzel, I hope you’re doing well in your land far away <3 I get to see you this weekend!! xD



How are you? Its been a while. A lot has happened since I last wrote, and I have a lot on my mind tonight, so I think I’ll just spit it out. 

When I met Danger, he was so confident. He had no cares, no worries. He was wild, and I was drawn to it, because I’m wild too. I’m worry free. A ray of fucking sunshine. He told me one of the reasons he liked me so much was because he didn’t feel needed around me. I liked him for noticing that I don’t need anybody but myself in this world. I’m a lone wolf at heart. I like being on my own. I like finding out what I’m made of. 

Recently I’ve moved across the globe to study abroad. It has been tough on us, and its only been two months since I left. We decided to be in a committed relationship even while I’m here, and I’m not sure if that was the right thing to do or not. 

The night before I left, Danger and I made love. I was scared after. Scared that maybe what we did wasn’t the right thing to do. Scared of what these next few months were going to bring. Scared of what I was going to come home to. Being here has made him need me, which scares me more than making love does. I feel so needed and maybe it’s because I’m a lone wolf but I’m not the kind of girl that deals with being needed well. It scares me, and I start to back away. He has me up on a pedestal and I’m not entirely sure if I can grind my teeth and tolerate that pedestal much longer. I like my feet on the ground thankyouverymuch. 

He has his insecurities while I … I don’t. I guess my only flaw in this relationship is being unable to voice my emotions to him, but that’s always been hard since my mentally abusive relationship back in high school. He gets jealous of the guys I hang out with and while I can deal with it for now I just don’t know how far that is going to go. LTR and Rapunzel are pretty much my only two girl friends from college … well, I guess now it’s only LTR since Rappy transferred. (Moment of silence). I have more guy friends than girl friends because that’s just who I am just like his insecurities are who he is. He also says that kissing girls while I’m in a relationship is cheating, which I can 100% understand and I do not argue with that at all, and in fact I agree with him. But that leads me to my next troubled thought.

I have this girl friend back home. Let’s call her Sassy. And when I think about her all I can think about is why didn’t I grab her and kiss her while I was home and still had the chance? I’m attracted to her. I want our fingers to be tangled in each other’s hair and want to know what its like to kiss her neck and hold her hand … intimately. 

Is this wrong of me? Is it wrong of me to crave Sassy while I’m telling Danger that I love him? Is it wrong of me to feel suffocated by being wanted? 

Please, someone, talk to me. 


LTR described it as that feeling you used to get around your best friend in elementary school. Before cliques got in the way. Before social standards, or societal norms, or puberty or your own fucked up thoughts. She described falling in love as the same love you had for your first best friend ever. 

Dear Danger,

I think I’m falling in love with you.


Dear LTR and Rapunzel,

Our past doesn’t define us, but they do help shape us. The boys we loved, no matter how young that love is or how untrue it may seem now, we loved them for a reason. We hold onto the memories of them, whether it be a letter, or lost imprints in messy sheets, not because we love them still, but because we loved them once. Although Wonderboy and Prince Charming are here and now, Letterboy and Lostboy are then and past, and that is just as important. 

We’re all haunted; I still hold onto journal entries and letters because I loved them once. There is no reason to take that hammock down, or burn those letters. They are a part of who you were, and possibly who you are now. 

You two have managed to fight off the ghosts, and I applaud you on that. Wonderboy and Prince Charming are exactly what their nicknames offer you, and you should appreciate everything you have with them. 

However, there’s a difference between the two of you and myself. Whether it’s because I’m a tortured artist who had her heart broken too soon, too horribly and too young, I find myself growing skeptical of that spark I had spoken about. I won’t be waiting around for a spark that may or may not ever come my way, so maybe when I leave the country in a month and a half I’ll find what I’m looking for on the other side of the world. Maybe I’ll be able to shrug off the tortured artist vibe, and maybe my ghosts will finally be laid to rest. I might even be able to build a life for myself. 

My bruised heart and I will be just fine. The boys I loved, and my heartaches do not define who I am, who we are, but I’d be lying if I said they didn’t influence where I turned out in life. 

There is no reason to burn your past. 


Old habits die hard..

Much like the thoughts of my ex will.

I don’t know if it is boredom or being at home, but amongst the familiarity of my childhood lifestyle are equally daunting memories of my first relationship.

It’s like stepping through the front door unearthed every last thought of him that I had held pent up in the infinite caves of my somewhat lacking memory for the past two years. And as much as I want them gone, my life has become an episode of ghost hunters, and I dug up the wrong phantasmic grave.

My room is a freaky hybrid of remnants of the old and adventures with the new, and every second my mind is playing hopscotch between similarities, differences, and blending two extremely different personalities to make me rethink every decision I’ve ever made.

Do I miss him? No. Maybe. I can’t decide. But my bed seems to fold only tangles with him between the sheets, and the hammock out my window is strung up with an out-of-body memory of our split, and the car that I drove in high school wreaks of the last drive that we took together. A long talk about his ‘mistake.’ He never should have let me go.
But I disagreed. It would never work between us and I didn’t want to try and I stand by that still, but then why can I not get him out of my head? I have a perfect Prince Charming waiting for me a mere, what, 500 miles away? ish? That’s not so bad, right?

And he is worth the wait!


I feel like a crazy person.

Kesha, girl, you’re right. Wait as long as you possibly can. As soon as you start letting those little sparks ignite, every last ounce of sanity that you have been able to cling to will go up in flames.



My mother and I got into an argument the other day. It was about that boy I had written about, Wake. She saw on facebook some pictures of him and me out together and called me up to tell me that she thought he was cute, and to congratulate me on the catch. 

"Yeah he’s cute but…"

"No, Kesh. Don’t do this. You always do this." 

"I just don’t feel any oomph." 

"Kesha why do you always do this? You find a cute guy, go on a date, and then you’re not interested in him."

I hung up. I was pissed. I was hurt. Clearly there’s something wrong with me. Even my mother sees it. 

But there’s not. I don’t want to settle. I don’t see the point in dating someone if I’m not entirely crazy about someone. And I know there’s nothing wrong with me. When I feel something, I’ll know it. And I did…but I never did anything about it.

Have you ever met someone and just knew that they HAD to be in your life somehow? I’ve only felt that way a handful of times, and the most recent was letscallhim Beard. I met him, and I wanted him in my life. But I was shy and nervous and I didn’t do anything. Last night we bumped into each other at the bars and we hung out all night. We had more than a few drinks, we were dancing and having an amazing time, and in that amazing time I found out that i was too late. He had a girlfriend. 

I got home late last night nursing a mildly broken heart, but still content and happy with how the night went. We hung out. We got along. We had fun. We bro-ed out and it was amazing. After curling up in my Ninja Turtle blanket, and munching on some 5-layer dip, I realized that there is nothing wrong with me. I don’t want to settle for anything less than that drive and flame that I felt with Beard. I’m okay with the fact that he has a girlfriend, I’m okay with the fact that we’re just friends. It felt nice to feel that spark, even if it was unrequited. 

Ladies and gents, don’t settle for anything less than that spark. It exists. 


To Like.

What does that even mean? To like someone? Fuck if I know. I’ve never had a real relationship… I fell in love with a guy, one that lived 1200 miles from me. Let’s just say the relationship ended badly. Let’s just say that I still lose sleep from being up all night crying. Let’s just say that he broke my heart. 

I thought I liked this guy last semester. I liked him enough to lose my virginity to him. But then when he kept trying to sleep over, when he wouldn’t stop texting me and leaving me alone even though I was disgustingly sick, I was turned off. I have zero leftover feelings for him. I see him around campus, say hey, whatsup, and carry on without feeling a second thought. 

And then there was Elvis, and I thought I loved him, but our love was just desperate attempts to hold onto the unfulfilled longing we had in our hearts. To hold onto that piece of us that was broken. 

Basically, this is how it’s been for me:

Girl meets boy. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Boy takes girl out. Girl does not like boy. 

What the fuck am I even waiting for? A spark? Because we all know that’s not real. So, followers and readers, I propose this question to you:

What does it mean for you when you like something? What does it feel like? Please, humor me, because I am dying to know.

-Call Me Kesha


If there’s one thing I’ve learned this semester it’s that you should listen to everything LTR has to say. When I came out to her, and told her that, “I think I’m bi. Well, I know I like girls. I’m attracted to them. I have crushes on them. I want to see what it’s like to have sex with girls that I have crushes on. So that makes me bi, right? I don’t like the label, but that’s what fits.” She told me that I didn’t have to label myself. That maybe I just liked people, and there was nothing wrong with that.

She also told me that maybe I wasn’t bi - maybe it was a comfort thing. That I already know the curves and contours of the female body, and that I haven’t spent enough time “feeling out” the male anatomy. I think she may be right. 

I went on a date with this boy … let’s call him Wake. It was nice. It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be. I only suffered one close call to an anxiety attack, and when he kissed me in his car at the end of the night there wasn’t any awkward buildup. It was lovely to shoot shit with him, throw some sarcastic flirtation back and forth and not have to worry about him not understanding my humor. But it was … tasteless. And that’s when I realized that LTR was completely right; I need someone I feel comfortable with. I need someone who I can stare at without flinching. Someone whose warmth I crave. I just need someone that I won’t flinch around. 

But who knows? Maybe Wake will turn out to be prince charming. Maybe I really am bisexual, and maybe I’ll find the woman of my dreams. Who knows? Isn’t that the beauty of it all?