Letter (Never Sent)

To you—
The only one I never forgot.

I don’t know if I have the right to write this.
Maybe I never did.
But some things won’t stay buried,
and my silence has grown too heavy to carry alone.

I still see you.
That soft smile, the way your presence quieted the storm in me—
I remember everything.

You were the one place I felt safe,
the only one who ever looked at me
and saw something worth saving.

And I know—I let you go.
I didn’t fight.
I disappeared into the years like a coward.
But not because I didn’t care.
Because I did.
Too much.

Seven years.
Seven years of wondering what might have happened
if I had just said the words:
I loved you.
I still do.

But love, for me, has always come tangled in fear.
I thought if I told you,
I’d lose you entirely.
And so I tried to protect the little I had
by keeping you just far enough away.

You gave me your heart,
and I kept it quietly, selfishly—
too afraid to speak,
too proud to fall.

But you were the best part of me.
The only part that ever felt true.

I still feel you sometimes,
like a breath against my skin
when the world goes still.
And I wonder…
could you ever still feel me too?

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this.
Maybe you shouldn’t.
But if you do,
just know—
I haven’t left.

I’m here.
I’ve always been.
Still loving you in silence.
Still waiting.

Still yours,
—even now—
Me