An Open Letter to a Lost Love
i hope this finds you well, because i, for one, am not holding up well. and secretly, i wish you weren’t either. i don’t know how to cope from the thought of losing you, how to heal the wounds that i don’t see. i didn’t realise how invested, how much in love i was. and by the time i did, you weren’t. and that’s okay, no hard feelings. timing isn’t always a friend to lovers.
i read our conversations while i sit in the metro, or when i’m trying hard to study, but the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach just doesn’t go, and it’s hard to do anything other than reminisce in the nostalgia that was us. loving isn’t easy, but letting you go is so much harder. thinking about the fact that i won’t see your good morning texts, or the fact that now there’s no one who will notice how i play with my sweater sleeves while trying to concentrate.
i never knew i was capable of loving so deeply, so fully, and so loudly. and i can’t thank you enough for making me realise how capable i am. but, baby, now the problem is that i don’t know how to fill the void that you’ve left. the hole that was once your home lies barren in my heart, and i don’t have the power of renting it out to someone else. because i know that no one else will understand how i love sunsets, no one else will understand the little things you did, and no one else deserves that spot because no one else is you.
i’ll be waiting for you. i hope you find your way back soon.