It is time I stop deluding myself into thinking that my letters to you are getting lost. Every passing day, your memories – that once freed me from misery – now turn into the burden that weighs me down with every step. Bear with me just one more time, for this is my last letter.
The first time we met, I was trying to ignore the world, loud music in my ears as I lay in the comfort of the bus I was never meant to be on. You stepped into the bus, and the warmth of your smile thawed my ice-cold heart. Although you remember us meeting only two months later, that cold winter morning that I saw you; that was when I lost my heart to you.
That long night, when I held your hand, as we gazed at the stars, you said, “It’s up to us: to be a cynic and curse the dark night, or be amazed at how the light of the stars make even the gloomy night beautiful”. That night, I realized; I was the night, and you were the stars. With you by my side, I had lost the darkness within me.
Those countless times I doubted myself, wondering if I was letting our love consume our identities, you reminded me that love was supposed to feel that way. We had to lose ourselves, to find ourselves in each other. The day I found you in me, I knew I had lost myself in you.
Maybe it was my fault, after all. Slowly, I let you drift away, knowing very well you wouldn’t come back. I had to, because I loved you enough to let go. Little did I know, you wanted me to fight back, for us. And when I finally did realize, it was already too late, for I had lost your love for me.
And then you walked. Oh the irony! You taught me to fix our broken souls, but didn’t believe we could fix two broken hearts. I watched you walk away, deep into the horizon, with the last of my spirit pinned on the hope that you would turn back to look at me, one last time. And when you didn’t, I finally knew I had lost you forever.
Despite all that, I toiled through the day, knowing that you read my letters. Your mere acknowledgement of my presence was enough to tide me over the sorrow life brought onto me. And when that stopped too, when you left from my life for good, it dawned on me that indeed, I had lost everything.
Yet, I wake up every day, console my heavy heart and take on the world, in an attempt to survive till the darkness of the night accompanies my soul. This was my last letter, not because I lost hope on life; but because I have lost the courage to write.