Salt steps

 

To someone who doesn't longer exist in my life:

Sometimes letters are meant to never reach their destination. Are words that will never reach your ears, and I truly believe I've never felt such a weight.

It's the weight of guilt that haunts me, I know my apologies are neither wanted nor can be heard. Even so, I will cast these words into the void of silence. I regret what I did to you, I regret living in your warmth only to then flee, I regret making you believe you're a fool, and also make you think I played with your feelings—these are words that I still bleeding. I carry the symbol of your heart, ironic considering that part of mine stayed with you. I fear I will die without ever embracing you again, that your voice is something I've already forgotten, and your face is a mirage. And I am just a memory that will remain forgotten in a drawer. My actions don't show what I truly feel; it's the cross I bear, because even though I say I will always love you, my actions show that I've moved on from everything we experienced, that I've discarded it all and coldly turned the page. Even so, I have faith that we will meet again. I pray to God that he will let me see you even just one more time. I need to apologize and thank you a thousand times over. Because from you I learned not to be ashamed of loving, not to be embarrassed for being myself, and to live as if tomorrow didn't exist. Love is a party, and since I learned that lesson, I realized that I will always be missing a guest. I love you, and how cowardly of me to hope that in another life I will do things better than I have in this one.

I will continue to speak of you as if you were still here, and that is my penance.

You ceased to be a person and became a concept, a concept that I will love ineffably until I forget myself.