Dear ⌠,
I honestly have no idea where or how to start this letter. Iâm writing this as a goodbye or see you soon that we didnât get the chance to experience. Foremost, I didnât get the chance to give you the gift that would make you authentically elated. Inspired utmost. Something that would make you remember why youâre so happy every time you come back to Granada. And maybe give you another reason to look forward to. A poem and two mini albums; one for you, and one for your best friend, when I captured you together being so happy on one of the rainiest night of the year. You would have loved that. He would have loved that. The saddest part is, you knew about this gift. We were supposed to meet on Sunday, but we didnât. Itâs sad how easily two people can let things fade into silence. Silence that nobody expects, after all that has been said, felt and experienced.
Every time, when I genuinely believe in the concept of being happy and single, the universe interrupts my organised boxes in my head. Laughing at my plans for the future that I constantly visualise. That happened to me the day we met. And even though I believe in souls, connections, energy, loyalty, love âtill death do us partâ, and that everything happens for a reason; I didnât manifest you into my life. I still have no idea what the reason is for meeting you.
On the day when I was not supposed to go out, I found a spiritual shop next to my place with rocks that transmit energy. The saleswoman asked me if I wanted to buy the âlove rockâ, and I laughed and said that Iâm definitely not manifesting this into my life. So, later that day, something told me that I should go out. Ironically, it was the night of the 27th â my favourite and lucky number.
Do you remember how we met? I do, vividly. I entered the club with no expectations, with some people whom I had just met. There you were... (...)
More: https://thefernwehtype.substack.com/p/a-letter-i-will-never-send-to-him
