A Letter That Was Never Sent

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I never planned to write to you. Let alone think of you. I didn’t want to sink in the abyss of your wrongful love.
Some stories  are bitter sweet. Some are meant to end quietly, without witnesses, without explanations but with logical apprehension. There are words that stayed with me too long, heavy on my shoulder, heart and chest, and today, they are heavier than silence. As I lay on my bed, looking at the molded ceiling, I think of us and what we could have been. I met you without knowing the whole truth. I did not know that you carried two worlds and belonged fully to neither of them. You were married.  If I had known, I would have protected myself, and my innocence better.

But I didn’t, and still, I do not regret the way I loved you. It was me pouring out to you. I regret the place where love found us. The untimely call from an unknown contact and the aftermath of meeting. The little conversations of who we were and the aspirations we had turned into sweet sensations and romantic ventures. You were gentle with me. I remember that more than anything else. The way you spoke to me softly, the way your eyes lingered as if they were afraid to leave first. You never hid me in fear, you hid yourself in confusion. I remember the midnight calls, the buzzing noise from the streets. I questioned. You said I was crazy but I knew something was wrong. You only called when you wanted to and turned me off when I called. I questioned. Was it wrong for me to call you? The red flags were many and I read through every line.

When I learned you belonged to another life, I chose to step away, not because I felt less, I felt too much. I didn’t want to be a second opinion, I didn’t want to be the one hurting another. I didn’t want to be the woman who waited while a man decided who he was and what he wanted. I didn’t want to be a ball.
You called. Every day. You said you were confused. I stayed silent and I stayed away, not because I was strong, but because answering would have broken something in me, something I might never have repaired.

I still remember the beach. The town rides. Ah! You were my tingling light, my route to happiness. You brought my heaven to earth. I remember the laughter that came easily. I still see the look in your eyes, the burning flames of desire.
For a moment, the world forgot its rules and we loved like people with no consequences. That memory still visits me, uninvited, gentle, but cruel.

This letter was never sent. Some love must remain unfinished to stay pure. The night I said goodbye was sinister, the clouds whispered. My bed was smaller and my tears voluntarily escaped my little eyes. The pain!
I walked away not empty, but honest. I applaud myself for that. And if you ever wondered whether what we had was real.  Somehow, it was. It just wasn’t allowed to live. It wasn’t for me. I am grateful I experienced love that felt gentle, even briefly. And I walk forward knowing I loved honestly.

Written by

Esther

I am a passionate writer, teacher and journalist. My passion for writing pushes me to write and share stories from my community.

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