When I had my first heartbreak, I wrote hundreds of letters filled with things I felt I needed to say to him.
I never sent them. They sat there, occupying the space his body used to take while serving as some kind of therapy, a cover to my silences. No one seems to get it, but sometimes, some people aren’t worthy of hearing the pain in your voice, the shaking your heart sends over to your vocal chords and which you just. can’t. disguise.
So write. Write your feelings away until there’s nothing left to write about.
I write, still. Letters that no one reads, that no one sees. Once I get it out on paper and I hold in my hands the emotional weakness my heart seems to be able to admit, then, and only then, I can begin to let go of the pain your non reciprocated love seemed to bring to me and these blank pages, scattered with words and nonsense and feelings I can’t understand nor define.
But darling, don’t feel special. You weren’t the first, and you certainly won’t be the last to break this heart of mine. There will be other subjects, I’m certain, so enjoy your time in the limelight.