oh, ophelia

Dear you,

I don’t know how to start this letter, nothing I have to say feels like an introduction. All the words I have in my mind, at the tip of my tongue, feel like a very intense string of phrases that are not fitted to be as gentle and easy an introduction should be. Will you forgive me for not being able to give this letter a proper start?

I guess you shouldn’t be too surprised that I am unable to be so careful and tender with my words. I’m always coming off too strong, especially with you, you must have become used to it by now. You must be tired of it even. I always say things you never expect to hear, don’t I? I guess that’s why you call me brave, because I tell you what’s on my mind without thinking much and end up leaving you a bit awkward and clueless about what to reply. But I promise you, this is the last time I’ll make you feel so at loss for words.

It’s been a pleasure getting to know you. I did enjoy our conversations, even though most of them were too short. I did enjoy the little time I’ve spent trying to get you to share your hidden thoughts and secluded feelings. I know I am a bit insufferable at times and I poked at you too much, but that was the only way I knew to make you break. Yet you were always oh so patient, never taking off your mask of indifference. You were always so kind and polite but your kindness made me want to scratch at your surface even harder. Really, it was a closed cycle. I try to push you, you become more closed off, I get frustrated and I end up trying to push you even more. I never learned. Not even one bit.

If you want to know the truth, throughout it all, my heart was so heavy, full of unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Throughout it all, I wanted to scream at you, ‘Say something. Please.’ Because, tell me, how can you have my heart be at the tips of your fingers and refuse to either crush it under the weight of your closed fists or hold it gently between your open palms? How can you look into my eyes and see your reflection shine so brilliantly and not demand me to break all the mirrors I have built in my heart?

I had so many plans for us. I pictured a life that looked so real I could almost taste it. I pictured softness and warmth, a kind of tenderness that would leave you aching for days. And I was chasing those sweet, sweet fragments of imagination so much that I couldn’t accept that they’re only that. Imaginations. I know you didn’t think my feelings for you were real, but they were, they were so real that they made me hate you so much at times. They made me hate myself even more.

I am not sad. I believe that everything is written and fated. I know that what‘s meant to be mine will be mine, no matter how bad I fight it and what’s not meant to be mine will never be, no matter how hard I fight for it. But still, it was nice to imagine the life we would create, it was nice to imagine it with you. It was nice to believe it would be you. I hate to admit it, but a small part of me still believes it too. A small part of me still thinks it’s capable of peeling off all your layers, one by one, and bask in the warmth of the real you. I fear that part will never die.

Finally, it was nice to meet you. I don’t think we will speak much after this, maybe a ‘hi’ here and there for a few months till distance wins this game, but I’ll always think about what was left unsaid. I’ll always think of all the what if’s and the could be’s. The saddest thing about it all is that I know you won’t be. You were never the type to dwell on anything, anyways. But I do wish you will always remember me. Maybe until you find someone who you would willingly destroy your mask for. Only then will I be at peace if you don’t remember me anymore.

We may see each other again but this is my farewell to you. I hope you’ll forever be living in bliss and peace.

Goodbye.

Always with love,