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A Letter Unread

There was a time

when I would have said 

you would have been

just as beautiful with me

but now that I see you with him

I see what true beauty is


and I hope you believe me

when you finally receive this letter

that I’ve been writing for you

for the last year or so

though I know you don’t want to hear from me again

because you know that I still love you


but just know that my love for you

has grown into something different

because I no longer want to be with you

I just wish you the best in everything

and I love you for everything we went through

because it has helped me grow so much


so please take care of yourself

where ever life may take you

and if you ever think of me

in a time of need

I will be there for you

somewhere in those eyes of yours

You’re going to forget me. It won’t be fast or sudden or something where I’m clear one day and an empty space the next. But, slowly, you’ll forget the sound of my voice, and then you won’t be able to picture the shape of my face, and eventually you’ll be looking at the sky right before the clouds start pouring rain, and you won’t be able to quite place the familiarity of that color, but it will be the same gray-blue that is my eyes.
You’ll no longer know that, though. I’ll just be an outline, a blurry body of disconnected memories that occasionally fits into your past. And that’s okay. Some people aren’t meant to be remembered. I’m just one of those people.
—  H.L. // excerpt from a book I’ll never write #40
Someday we will forget all about this. I will forget how you looked at me and I will stop dreaming about you every single night, wishing for you to come back. You will forget the way I laughed at every little thing you said and how I was different; happier, with you. We will be too far away from each other and we will have forgotten everything. Someday, what we had wouldn’t matter anymore, and I will never cry for you again.
—  Someday

I sent you a thousand letters and I bet you read each one a thousand times. Our fingertips are drifting beyond rescue and now I’m running out of letters and I’m running out of words, but I’m not running out of love. You see my problem?
Space and time and no phone calls don’t mean I forgot the feel of your skin. Unsaid words don’t mean you learnt to live without me. And my jumbled thoughts can’t be put into letters anymore. I don’t know what address to send them to anymore. So now they’re spinning around in a void, but maybe someday, somehow, you’ll understand every word.
You’ve read my every thought with your name on it. No fences, no barriers. So you know there was never any hate, never indifference.
Only love. There’s always gonna be only love for you.

And there are not enough envelopes in the world to send all of it to you. Maybe it’s best we sent our goodbyes.

— 

Lakshmi Nagaraj

After everything, you didn’t fight for me, didn’t pull me back. Let me go so easily.

You led me to believe I’m not worthy of love

I stopped writing about love for a moment. I stopped writing about you. Instead I wrote about freshly fallen snow, summer rain, newly cut grass, clothes fresh out of the dryer, tears of joy, tight hugs, old books, running through an open field under a blue sky, and sunsets. I wrote about starry skies and pine trees. I wrote about the city skyline and the way the hue of a morning’s coffee changes when you sweeten it. I wrote about every beautiful thing that doesn’t remind me of us. Yet somehow, even this became about you.
—  endless thoughts
So in the process of moving on, we learn to hate the person we once loved.
Because it’s easier to hate them, than it is to deal with the fact that you still love them. It’s easier to keep this cold attitude against them, than it is to realize they’re never coming back, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about that.
—  F.F. // Thoughts after you left #4