Ten years ago: a letter that was never sent

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Ten years ago

Do you remember me? I loved you in high school. Not loudly. Not boldly. I loved you the way girls love when they are still learning what love costs. You were my friend first, the best of friends. That mattered to me.

We laughed easily, walked the same paths, and shared stories that felt important simply because they were ours. We had songs to sing and a future to muse on. Being with you felt natural, like breathing. I don’t think you ever pretended not to notice my feelings, you knew. And somehow, knowing didn’t change how close we were at that time, or at least, that’s what I believed then. 

You were an Arsenal fan, I don’t know if you still are. You were always hopeful, always waiting for a season that promised more than it delivered. Maybe that should have warned me about us. That way, I wouldn’t have fallen so deep. The excavator wouldn’t have taken long to dig me up. We talked about football and dissed on each other for supporting and loving our clubs. I was Man United, and still I am. We are 4th on the table. Arsenal is leading. The hope you have must be marvellous.

You loved wrestling too, especially Roman Reigns, the undefeated, unyielding champion, who is loved, adored, and never ignored. That, too, I remember. We loved him both, a bond we shared.

I think part of me believed you were just as invincible, that you would never drop what mattered. Our love never blossomed. The soils were not fertile, I guess it didn’t explode or crash. It simply withered quietly, painfully, like a plant denied sunlight.

There was a moment you chose something else. Something easier. Something that didn’t protect what we had built. That was the betrayal, not that you didn’t love me back, but that you stopped being careful with my heart while holding it in your hands. You crashed it, and I sank in, soaked myself in tears, and carefully moulded it bit by bit.

I was hurt, deeply, but time did what it always does. It softened the sharp edges. I no longer carry anger towards you. I don’t rehearse the past or wish you regret it. I am a happier girl now. I’m still learning how the world works each day. I’ve learned that people can be good and still fail us.

I never sent this letter because I didn’t need you to apologise (You did apologise). I needed to understand that loving you was not a mistake. It wasn’t. It was genuinely my heart, a radiant young me that didn’t know much.

It was a chapter. A tender one. A formative one. You taught me how deeply I can feel, how selfless I can be, and how thoughtful I can be. You taught me that friendship deserves protection. Not trashing. You taught me that some loves are not meant to stay, but they still matter. The lessons are worthy.

So this is my goodbye, that should have come 10 years ago, written years too late and exactly on time. I wish you well. And I release what we never became. The song was never ours to sing. The beat was off-key because the song was never ours.

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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