letters i never sent.

the one i never sent.

i wanted to be enough.
i really did.

but maybe i wasn't...
or maybe you just
never saw me the way
i saw you.

— T

the one i almost deleted.

i opened your contact
seven times today.
closed it six.

the seventh time
i just stared at
your name
for a while.

— T

the one written at 2:13 am.

do you think about it sometimes?
the way things just...
stopped?

no fight.
no reason.
just silence
where something used to be.

i do.
more than i should.

— T

the one without an ending.

i had so much to say.
i practiced it in the shower.
in the car.
before i fell asleep.

but then i saw you
and i said
"i'm fine."

and you said
"good."

and that was that.

— T

the one you'll never read.

some things don't translate well
into words.
what we had was one of those things.

i've tried three times
to write this properly.
all three ended up
in the trash.

this is attempt four.

— T

the one written in winter.

it's cold here.
you always hated the cold.
you'd steal my jacket
every single time.

i miss that.

i miss the specific way
you stole my jacket.

— T

the last one.

maybe none of this matters.
maybe all of it does.

i'm not sure anymore
where the truth ends
and the missing begins.

but i wrote all of these
and that has to mean something.

right?

— T