Letters I Couldn’t Send
Illustration by Sydney Hanson
I didn’t know him for very long. I’m aware of my own teenage melodrama. Even in our demise, I fear his gaze over the words I promised him in secret. The words that I swore I'd let him read but always backed out in cowardice. Instead I choose the scapegoat of saying it’s never been about him. But he knows, and I know. Every single word is about him.
…
02/15/2025
Every breath you take makes my chest tighten. I’m listening to your snores over the speaker and you’re undeniable. My feelings for you are undeniable. I can remember how still and beautiful you are when you’re asleep and I can’t help but miss the privilege of bearing your weight when I’m in your arms. You groan in your sleep and I swoon. Maybe this isn’t me at all but your sleep sounds are distracting and all I can think about is writing to you. Your exhale feels so close and I can imagine the breath that would brush upon my skin, if only I were so lucky as to be beside you. It’s cold coming to me as a wind, again I swoon.
I feel like a child enticed by things they can’t have. But to know I once did is enough to keep me tied until I am lucky once again. No one but me gets to hear your hoarse voice at night and I feel so damn lucky. I don’t dare do anything but listen. I don’t dare think about anything other than what you look like at this very moment, if your hair is messy, your body is entangled in blankets and how jealous I am not to be the one you’re entangled with. I don’t mean to be so forward. I think I just like you, very much.
03/06/2025
Writing to you makes it easier to organize my thoughts and have an inkling of confidence in my speech. I don’t know why but lately I’ve been letting words sit on my tongue with no offer of refuge, no possibility of escape. They ache and yearn for sunlight and I just can’t give it to them. I feel this way with you. There’s always so much to say but the words die in my mouth before my lungs can even get a whiff of them. The curse of thought expels speech. How many times can I repeat myself before it no longer has meaning? I don’t want to say, I want to feel. I want you to feel the pit in my core, as I starve. My body weakens and my head hurts for you. You’re a splint in my back but I won’t reach to comfort it. Wouldn’t even dare. I’d lie in the pain of your presence because even there I could be comfortable.
I miss kissing you. The weight once there now dire, the absence of your lips on mine leaving a sour taste. My senses are now dull but with you I saw every shade of blue that painted the sky. I felt the harsh hit of wind, how it pushes you. Sometimes that wind moves you and you can’t help but be carried by it. You may not know where you’re going but it’s taking you places. And then it’s gone. You are stranded and unable to move on.
03/09/2025
I like you so much, I like your toes and your ears, your eyes and your nose, the parts you show the world and the parts you don’t. I want to see the small of your back and hear what your heart sounds like on rainy days, how your laugh changes in the summer, and if your voice sounds differently when there's music playing. I could write about the way my breath hitched against your lips but I'd rather experience it again. I’d rather feel the weight of yours against me, the heaviness not a struggle but a privilege to have over me. I want to consume you. Over and over, and I'd return the favour without doubt. To offer all I could without asking anything, it's a privilege. I yearn, aching and pleading, forcing my head to produce images of you because I'd rather be distracted than forget the crooked edge of your lips.
I beg that you don’t change your mind about me. Please don’t get over it. Please don’t forget. Because I know myself, I don’t forget green eyes or brown hair, the security of touch or the feeling when you kiss me. I’m yours. I’d be all yours. Even without the label, I couldn’t dare offer anything of yours to another. I don’t know how to not want you.I don’t even want to attempt. I don’t know how I could be so deserving and I don’t know what you see in me. But thank God you see it. Thank God you see me.
03/18/2025
There’s no use in turning off the light. I don’t think it’ll ever go out. The light blinds, it doesn’t dim for anyone and it definitely wouldn’t for me. The light is Fitzgerald green and it kills. I’m waiting for you to leave, I'm not the one you need. You deserve to get off the ledge and find someone new but I’m a selfish person. I can’t comprehend how beautiful you are. My skin hasn’t gone through enough bleeding to feel your touch and my lips certainly haven't worn enough sores to be lucky enough to kiss you. I can’t ever escape you. If I had my way I wouldn't ever need to,but for now I'm okay keeping you in my head all the time. How lucky am I to exist at the same time as you? How lucky am I to have known you? I don’t think I could ever repay the privilege. I hope you don’t ever realize my faults. I miss you.
03/22/2025
You’re my kind of man. I’m sorry we fight, you always say you don’t understand why I want you. And though I try so desperately to show how I feel, I don’t know how to articulate the proper sentences that show you how much you mean to me. I copy poets and authors who know so much more than my softened head. I just want to be in your life, though I can feel our time running short. I’d bleed a thousand times over to ensure you never gain a scar and I’d never go outside so that you can get all the sun. You’re pulling away but I can’t bear the thought of letting you go. I was all in, right from the beginning. It was never any use to pretend I wasn’t. I could be good. I could be great. And I’d try hard, really hard. I can never get over how lucky I am to have the privilege of knowing you. I thank the religion I never tried to learn much about. I thank the faith that I took for granted. For without, it would be impossible for me to be so lucky.
…
Now in my present I feel I’ve been squeezing his image out of my brain, wringing the memories from the grooves that make up my mind.Yet even apart, even when I know he no longer cares for the thoughts that make up my head, I'm scared of him. Embarrassed by my own emotion and ashamed that I cherish his opinion over me. But I know and I hope that I never talk to him again. I hope he has all the dreams that he’s ever shared with me come true. Though I don’t have a place in them any longer, I hope that he stands by his word. I don't want to know when he’s doing better than me. I pray to live oblivious to his success and committed to my own.