Dearreader Stories

❝once my act of perfection is over, what am i?❞ ⎯ a collection of my thoughts put into writing. [ lowercase intended. read best in dark mode ]

December 3, 2017 Dear readers...

Still in writing still working in the cover

Dear reader, I wish to get to know you. I may be just words on a page, and you may not be interested, but please. I am so very lonely here. There is no one else to talk to but you. Would you care to sit down and enjoy my company?

A "book" on my thoughts about the world I'm living through and how I portray and deal with it. It's not that intriguing, but I wouldn't feel bad if you were to just pass this.

A collection of stuff I wrote about love and other things. Happy reading!! much love, Amarynthe L.

Hi, I'm iddhi - but in this space, I'm just a girl who writes what she couldn't say out loud. I write about heartbreak, soft love, messy boys, best friends, betrayal, and healing in silence. Some of these stories are mine. Some are what I wish I'd said. Some are fiction - but all of them feel real. I believe in writing with emotion, crying in private, and falling in love with fictional people who make you forget your ex. 💌 welcome to my universe - the iddhiverse. 📝 Genre: poetic heartbreak, slow-burn romance, soft girl diaries 📍 Vibe: emotional, sometimes chaotic, always real 🎀 Status: still healing. still writing

a note from an author to their reader. Any comments or critiques are appreciated!

A sad love story between the story and the reader. "I know our love isn't forever but when you have no more pages to turn and I have no more words left to write, I'll continue to love you as I have done so from the start. " -Amelia Marie

A hard year, starts now. One entry per week. Names are changed, but other than that it's pretty much acurate. People often say that fiction is just the byproduct of daily life, beefed up and mashed together, like a literary stew. I hope this one is entertaining.

when you start a summer program you didn't expect to meet someone like him he was diffrent he excepted you you were his sunshine X reader

Behind every story I write is a real person with a big dream. This is not a chapter of fiction, but a chapter of my heart. I'm a Ugandan storyteller, mother, and dreamer-hoping to bring my words to life through animation and voice. If you've ever connected with my stories, this message is for you. Thank you for reading, believing, and walking this journey with me.

Dear Reader, 9/29/30 If everyone was a non-human being, I would be a river. Rivers can change just as fast as my life did a few years ago. Sometimes you are floating along with the breeze, next you'll be tumbling over the roaring rapids. Sometimes I'll be going down a waterfall only to be met with a bottom of spiky rocks. Other rivers may cross paths with me, but eventually they'll be gone again. Nothing ever stays the same. Things will change for the better, but by that time they'll have changed for the worse. When I'm finally happy, things will go down hill again. Everything will be thrown overboard and I'll be left with my tears on the tabletop and a lonely, heavy heart. Love, Writer Eloise Brooks isn't the kind of girl you would expect to write in a diary. But should you even call it that? Maybe she would prefer not. No one knows of her writings and she hopes no one ever will, but when she leaves the journal at a table in a local bar, what else would she be obliged to expect? When Harry finds the journal while visiting a friend, he almost wishes he never did. After reading touching passages, he finds himself searching for the mysterious writer as Eloise searches for the mysterious reader.

There's a lot more to life than what people lead on. This is my story. Come along for the journey. trigger warning: contains mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts. Do not read if you are sensitive to that content.

Dear Reader, I write this for you, to remember me; for me, cause if I never get to meet you, to kiss your lips or at least to touch your hand, I want to remember you when I get old; and for us, cause I have hope that one day, it doesn't matter how much time it will take, this book will reach your hands and you'll remember what you've forgotten . I won't tell your name cause it's too pure and beautiful to be written by my dirty hands and fingers and I'm afraid that of a matter of a pen and a paper, the moment in which your beautiful voice said your beautiful name in my head for the first time, will be forgotten.

Dear Reader,