My darling Rebekah,
There are no words to describe how much it pains me to write this letter. Know that, were I not so much of a coward, I would tell you these words in person. But it is I am a coward, for this is the only way I could bare to tell you…I’m leaving. Something has happened and I regret to tell you the nature of the event is something I cannot share. I ask nothing of you except that you look back on our time together with fondness rather than anger.
I know I will.
Affectionately yours,
Cara
She cocked her head and just looked at him. I mean, she like really looked at him. She just took a minute to drink in every little detail of him. In fact she started giggling and now she even felt drunk of him. He was more now. She couldn’t get enough. He was probably creeped out by her new affectionate self. She didn’t care what he thought though and decided right then to get up in his face and now their eyes locked and their lips were an inch apart.
It was the affection that I had for candy that kept me alive. I never wanted to eat anything else. One day I was walking around and enjoying the weather when I realized that I needed a damn pack of skittles. How else could I enjoy this day?
He flicked a piece of ash from his cigarette and watched the object of his affection dwindle, dwindle, dwindle into nothingness, as the fog enveloped her bare legs and swallowed her whole, leaving nothing but the glitter of the golden spire. No, no. The golden spire, protruding from the lip of the government building, where steam billowed from its carved orifices. Standing up, he withdrew another cigarette and lit his sleeve on fire.
Mothers with their children, holding hands, caring and watching out for each other. Friends who love each other as well. Family relations, mother, father, sister, brother, and everyone else. Nobody gets left behind. Everybody has their share of affection. Love, that is.
Me, I only have Butterscotch, my precious dog. In my family, everybody has schedule of their own. Nobody left for me. Only butterscotch. How I miss everybody. I wish they are not that busy. I always get left alone. Not fun.
Affection is something you feel when you have good feelings towards something or someone, it’s a good feeling and can be shown towards animals, people, babies, puppies or kittens or anything else you generally like. Affection can come with love or can occur before it
He leaned over and nudged me softly, a rare sign of affection in these dire times. We knew we belonged to each other; after all, our families had spent years setting this up, but now that the empire was gone, the old religion was banned, and the new regime enslaved us all, trying to win each other’s already promised hearts wasn’t too high on the priority list, though I still found time to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before the “manager” came back with one of his homemade weapons.
With great affection I offered him the whole world. Love and devotion a place to call home.It was never enough I truly knew. It was never just me and him it was always going to be me him and her.
Is affection but a word to describe the lingering scent of a rose after it has fallen off your lapel? Is it the gentle smile that he whom has your love directs toward you? Is it the vague blush that sits in your cheeks moments after you say your most beloved words?
The affection that I felt, when the notion was given, brought down the house. The furthering of the human condition affected me to the fullest. I can’t explain the irony. But, the horse jumped over my psyche.
My affection for you is tinted with scorn
however, I somehow still adorn — I adore
I adore you, I adore us, I adore what we were, and what we could still be
what we could still be
still be — affection
He stared at her, hoping she would turn around, and show him just a glimpse of that infectious smile. She however, would let him hang to dry, as she enjoyed torturing the poor man far too much.
I lose myself in prospective affection. I touch you, red vermillion in my mind. I remember fighting it tooth-and-nail. But the way you flush my skin is too much. And I’m dying for a piece of your attention.
he was affectionate, to say the least. His kisses were always soft and roses always lay on the bed when she came home. That was his flaw. His greatest flaw was his kisses were always soft and gentle and frankly, boring. Roses smelled like nothing. it was boring.
Where was my affection for the girl? I thought back to our shared past, and realized, regardless of what we went through, I was disappointed. She was not the one I knew.
The affection he felt for her was born from familiarity. He knew that, but it didn’t make her appearance less relieving. He pulled her into his arms and held her quietly, savoring the moment. It wouldn’t last and he knew it.
It was hard for me to see his affection. It was quiet. A subtle caress, a fleeting smirk. He loved me, I knew that. But sometimes it hurt. Sometimes it was hard to find. Nothing like when I hugged him. So when I opened the door of my house on my birthday, I was very surprised.
i have never been what you would call the affectionate type, even as kid. When my mother would shower me with kisses I would often squirm and wriggle my way out of her embrace.
Look, I’m not sure what I’m doing and this is hard for even pros. Soooo….
Over there is an invitation because it just seemed easier to write all this down in a letter.
Very intriguing, isn’t it? There’s this whole composition written with you in mind.
Ever the optimist, I thinking that…perhaps, well, if you have sharp eyes then…
Maybe you’ll read it and pick up on the ways I’ve tried to express the silly way I feel…
Either you’ll get it and return this affection, or you won’t and I’ll just have to get over it.
Your affection continues to affect me in ways that I do not fully understand. Therefore, I can not allow it. It may turn out to be an imposition upon my intent, which would be unforgivable. So, as a professional courtesy, I am asking you now to cease and desist this love.
I think affection is something that lessens and grows over time. When you enter into a new relationship, there’s that amazing thrill of butterflies and sunshine, but soon it dies, and turns into something more constant, steady, and, dare I say, beautiful. A commitment. A laborious, beautiful commitment.
Did you really think that time
will let us go floating along the river
until we snag on some thorn
or get smoothed over like stone
Did you really think that affection
will wax and wane like the changing moon
and that one day I will wake up
and be not surprised at your going.
god i loved him. i loved him so much. i loved his everything from his eyes to the way he tapped his foot when he was nervous. he was so beautiful. everything about him was beautiful. i guess he couldnt see how beautiful he was when he swallowed those pills
Affection is that feeling that you have for the weird boy in the back of the class or your neighbor’s dog. It’s not yours to own and love the way you want. It belongs to someone else. So you are affectionate towards it. You are slightly distant. Possibly waiting for the day when affection can blossom into something grander. Something more beautiful.
It wasn’t affection.
That’s what she kept telling herself.
It wasn’t affection, it wasn’t compassion.
They didn’t actually care about her.
It wasn’t affection.
They didn’t mean their compliments.
It wasn’t affection.
It was pity.
The affection I feel when you are around me is breathtaking. I feel the warmth that you bring me. My heart is pounding with sincerity. I love the way you love me. I love the way you touch me. I want this love to last forever and ever. I hope it never dies.
It was a strange disease, one he couldn’t shake off; for he had been trying many a year to heal. Infliction weird enough that it had left a lot of doctors stumped for words; weird and weirder diagnosis and prognosis had been put forward to no avail.
His gaze was affectionate as he brushed the hair back from my eyes. Brimming with fresh tears, his blue eyes smiled up at me as he said, “Don’t ever stop smiling, Sunshine.”
“Daddy,” I hoarsely begged. “Don’t go.”
“I’ll never let go, Cass,” he gently let his hand drop. Exhaustion from the effort to sit up in his hospital bed seemed to set in. “You’ll never be alone,” he whispered as his eyes shut for the final time.
Mine closed with his as a sob burrowing in my chest exploded into the emptiness of the room.
the ball slams
heartthrob
richoet
of soul and mind
time stops in that moment
as it always does
when i see you
but this time it speeds up
afterwards
a sense of affection drops away
into the timeless abyss
waiting watching hoping for
one more kiss
Affection is a concept that is unknown to me. When people give gestures of affection like words or a physical act, my mind does not flucuate, does not falter. Affection has no effect on me – there is no conceptualization of it instilled in me.
Darkly visions haunt such humble affection
so truth and chance become altered upon the coal face
I am remembered in those dreams
so what then is safe
no place…
But there in that affection
Affection, that unpleasant little bug that creeps into your system through your ear. It makes you sick and it makes you suffer, yet the doctors can never find it, it’s one of those invisible viruses. But you know it is there, you felt it growing inside you. And even if you know it is making you weak, at this point you wouldn’t even want to take an antidote. That’s how effective it is.
Affection, a noun, whose physical version is often confused with love. Misplaced physical affection is likely the leading cause of dysfunctional relationships. Not always a fatal problem.
It wasn’t his affection I was seeking, it was just sex. I didn’t want love, I didn’t want sweetness, I wanted to get off. I gave up long ago on Love. Why is it that when I just want sex, guys want relationships?
Mum called it affection. We always called it Grandma giving us a sloppy kiss. We always got one, on every visit, no matter how naughty we’d been, desperate to escape her Parthian shot.
The cat rubbed its whiskers into her face, purring. It’s affection, she thought; the cat likes me, but a wicked little voice whispered “You know he only wants to go out, or to be fed. Otherwise he doesn’t give a damn about you. Nobody does.”
My darling Rebekah,
There are no words to describe how much it pains me to write this letter. Know that, were I not so much of a coward, I would tell you these words in person. But it is I am a coward, for this is the only way I could bare to tell you…I’m leaving. Something has happened and I regret to tell you the nature of the event is something I cannot share. I ask nothing of you except that you look back on our time together with fondness rather than anger.
I know I will.
Affectionately yours,
Cara
She cocked her head and just looked at him. I mean, she like really looked at him. She just took a minute to drink in every little detail of him. In fact she started giggling and now she even felt drunk of him. He was more now. She couldn’t get enough. He was probably creeped out by her new affectionate self. She didn’t care what he thought though and decided right then to get up in his face and now their eyes locked and their lips were an inch apart.
It was the affection that I had for candy that kept me alive. I never wanted to eat anything else. One day I was walking around and enjoying the weather when I realized that I needed a damn pack of skittles. How else could I enjoy this day?
He flicked a piece of ash from his cigarette and watched the object of his affection dwindle, dwindle, dwindle into nothingness, as the fog enveloped her bare legs and swallowed her whole, leaving nothing but the glitter of the golden spire. No, no. The golden spire, protruding from the lip of the government building, where steam billowed from its carved orifices. Standing up, he withdrew another cigarette and lit his sleeve on fire.
Mothers with their children, holding hands, caring and watching out for each other. Friends who love each other as well. Family relations, mother, father, sister, brother, and everyone else. Nobody gets left behind. Everybody has their share of affection. Love, that is.
Me, I only have Butterscotch, my precious dog. In my family, everybody has schedule of their own. Nobody left for me. Only butterscotch. How I miss everybody. I wish they are not that busy. I always get left alone. Not fun.
Affection is something you feel when you have good feelings towards something or someone, it’s a good feeling and can be shown towards animals, people, babies, puppies or kittens or anything else you generally like. Affection can come with love or can occur before it
He leaned over and nudged me softly, a rare sign of affection in these dire times. We knew we belonged to each other; after all, our families had spent years setting this up, but now that the empire was gone, the old religion was banned, and the new regime enslaved us all, trying to win each other’s already promised hearts wasn’t too high on the priority list, though I still found time to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before the “manager” came back with one of his homemade weapons.
With great affection I offered him the whole world. Love and devotion a place to call home.It was never enough I truly knew. It was never just me and him it was always going to be me him and her.
Is affection but a word to describe the lingering scent of a rose after it has fallen off your lapel? Is it the gentle smile that he whom has your love directs toward you? Is it the vague blush that sits in your cheeks moments after you say your most beloved words?
The affection that I felt, when the notion was given, brought down the house. The furthering of the human condition affected me to the fullest. I can’t explain the irony. But, the horse jumped over my psyche.
My affection for you is tinted with scorn
however, I somehow still adorn — I adore
I adore you, I adore us, I adore what we were, and what we could still be
what we could still be
still be — affection
He stared at her, hoping she would turn around, and show him just a glimpse of that infectious smile. She however, would let him hang to dry, as she enjoyed torturing the poor man far too much.
I lose myself in prospective affection. I touch you, red vermillion in my mind. I remember fighting it tooth-and-nail. But the way you flush my skin is too much. And I’m dying for a piece of your attention.
hold my heart to warm me up
i don’t want your hands
he was affectionate, to say the least. His kisses were always soft and roses always lay on the bed when she came home. That was his flaw. His greatest flaw was his kisses were always soft and gentle and frankly, boring. Roses smelled like nothing. it was boring.
Where was my affection for the girl? I thought back to our shared past, and realized, regardless of what we went through, I was disappointed. She was not the one I knew.
The affection he felt for her was born from familiarity. He knew that, but it didn’t make her appearance less relieving. He pulled her into his arms and held her quietly, savoring the moment. It wouldn’t last and he knew it.
Rejection. Dejection.
Touch. Smile. Hold my face.
Longing for. Lonely.
Love. Respect.
Laugh. Smile. Happiness.
It was hard for me to see his affection. It was quiet. A subtle caress, a fleeting smirk. He loved me, I knew that. But sometimes it hurt. Sometimes it was hard to find. Nothing like when I hugged him. So when I opened the door of my house on my birthday, I was very surprised.
i have never been what you would call the affectionate type, even as kid. When my mother would shower me with kisses I would often squirm and wriggle my way out of her embrace.
Look, I’m not sure what I’m doing and this is hard for even pros. Soooo….
Over there is an invitation because it just seemed easier to write all this down in a letter.
Very intriguing, isn’t it? There’s this whole composition written with you in mind.
Ever the optimist, I thinking that…perhaps, well, if you have sharp eyes then…
Maybe you’ll read it and pick up on the ways I’ve tried to express the silly way I feel…
Either you’ll get it and return this affection, or you won’t and I’ll just have to get over it.
I have great affection for my class.
Your affection continues to affect me in ways that I do not fully understand. Therefore, I can not allow it. It may turn out to be an imposition upon my intent, which would be unforgivable. So, as a professional courtesy, I am asking you now to cease and desist this love.
I think affection is something that lessens and grows over time. When you enter into a new relationship, there’s that amazing thrill of butterflies and sunshine, but soon it dies, and turns into something more constant, steady, and, dare I say, beautiful. A commitment. A laborious, beautiful commitment.
Did you really think that time
will let us go floating along the river
until we snag on some thorn
or get smoothed over like stone
Did you really think that affection
will wax and wane like the changing moon
and that one day I will wake up
and be not surprised at your going.
god i loved him. i loved him so much. i loved his everything from his eyes to the way he tapped his foot when he was nervous. he was so beautiful. everything about him was beautiful. i guess he couldnt see how beautiful he was when he swallowed those pills
Affection is that feeling that you have for the weird boy in the back of the class or your neighbor’s dog. It’s not yours to own and love the way you want. It belongs to someone else. So you are affectionate towards it. You are slightly distant. Possibly waiting for the day when affection can blossom into something grander. Something more beautiful.
It wasn’t affection.
That’s what she kept telling herself.
It wasn’t affection, it wasn’t compassion.
They didn’t actually care about her.
It wasn’t affection.
They didn’t mean their compliments.
It wasn’t affection.
It was pity.
The affection I feel when you are around me is breathtaking. I feel the warmth that you bring me. My heart is pounding with sincerity. I love the way you love me. I love the way you touch me. I want this love to last forever and ever. I hope it never dies.
what happens now
It was a strange disease, one he couldn’t shake off; for he had been trying many a year to heal. Infliction weird enough that it had left a lot of doctors stumped for words; weird and weirder diagnosis and prognosis had been put forward to no avail.
His gaze was affectionate as he brushed the hair back from my eyes. Brimming with fresh tears, his blue eyes smiled up at me as he said, “Don’t ever stop smiling, Sunshine.”
“Daddy,” I hoarsely begged. “Don’t go.”
“I’ll never let go, Cass,” he gently let his hand drop. Exhaustion from the effort to sit up in his hospital bed seemed to set in. “You’ll never be alone,” he whispered as his eyes shut for the final time.
Mine closed with his as a sob burrowing in my chest exploded into the emptiness of the room.
the ball slams
heartthrob
richoet
of soul and mind
time stops in that moment
as it always does
when i see you
but this time it speeds up
afterwards
a sense of affection drops away
into the timeless abyss
waiting watching hoping for
one more kiss
Affection is a concept that is unknown to me. When people give gestures of affection like words or a physical act, my mind does not flucuate, does not falter. Affection has no effect on me – there is no conceptualization of it instilled in me.
Darkly visions haunt such humble affection
so truth and chance become altered upon the coal face
I am remembered in those dreams
so what then is safe
no place…
But there in that affection
Affection, that unpleasant little bug that creeps into your system through your ear. It makes you sick and it makes you suffer, yet the doctors can never find it, it’s one of those invisible viruses. But you know it is there, you felt it growing inside you. And even if you know it is making you weak, at this point you wouldn’t even want to take an antidote. That’s how effective it is.
Affection, a noun, whose physical version is often confused with love. Misplaced physical affection is likely the leading cause of dysfunctional relationships. Not always a fatal problem.
It wasn’t his affection I was seeking, it was just sex. I didn’t want love, I didn’t want sweetness, I wanted to get off. I gave up long ago on Love. Why is it that when I just want sex, guys want relationships?
Mum called it affection. We always called it Grandma giving us a sloppy kiss. We always got one, on every visit, no matter how naughty we’d been, desperate to escape her Parthian shot.
The cat rubbed its whiskers into her face, purring. It’s affection, she thought; the cat likes me, but a wicked little voice whispered “You know he only wants to go out, or to be fed. Otherwise he doesn’t give a damn about you. Nobody does.”