Nothing Left to Say


Darling, we have come along way – you and me. We rose up from the ashes of what could have been and found something to settle on. There was never closure and maybe that is why it has taken me so long to realize that missing you, feeling that deep hole in my chest, will never cease to exist. You have forever taken that piece and unlike a puzzle, there are slim chances of finding it again.

I sit here, contemplating if this is the right thing to post today and have accepted the fact that this letter will go unopened, it won’t touch the eyes of the one it is written to and I am okay with that. Like nostalgia, you are a sentimental yearning. You have become that to me and I have accepted the slow burn that comes with thinking about you. I can’t bring up the happy thoughts or the way your smirk only lifted the left side of your face (how that quirk is now my own). How dark your eyes were and getting lost in them was like a maze I didn’t want to find the exit to. My promise to you, to myself, is that this will be the last time I sit here and long for you. The last time I will allow myself to go inside my head and remember the words you told me. The last time I will miss you.

There are words that haven’t been written yet that describe the feeling of having your best friend leave you. There are no words because that feeling is not something you readily accept or even try to comprehend. Your best friend is supposed to stick with you for a lifetime, right? Ha, darling, funny joke. If you are one of the rare ones that have this, hold on tightly.

But, back to you.

Your best friend is supposed to find a way to choose you, in the end, when the world is throwing you ultimatums. But my best friend chose to walk away and leave me in the dust. You left me in the dust. You left me there, tears rolling down my face, staring blankly at the words you sent through a message because it was too hard to see me cry in person. The worst part is that I knew it was coming and after I had fought for you so many times in the years prior, the fight was gone. This wasn’t the first time you had left me and a piece of me wanted to believe that you would come back again, just like you always had. Fast forward, seven years and not an inkling of hope is left. I am tired of this, wondering if you still think about me or if I am no longer that drug that you just can’t kick. It has taken me this long to realize that, maybe this hole will always be here. And even though it may never be filled, it will mend.

Here I sit, letting each piece of you revert back to my memory. Holding the key and finally letting it slip from my tightly grasped fingers. I will always miss the idea of you. You gave me so much hope and love that I never thought I deserved. You believed in me and gave me daily pep talks. You were my constant, I was yours. I was the one you came running to and I was the one you wrote actual, pen to paper, letters to. I was the one who could finish your thoughts and you could do the same for me. But that is not how it is anymore, it hasn’t been for a long time. We were good and those memories were too.

But we aren’t those two kids anymore.

We are both just fine.

Like nostalgia, you are a sentimental yearning. I am okay with that. I am okay that a piece of me will always love and miss you.

But there is nothing left to say when words are taken in the wind.

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