#unsentletters

Anh sẽ gọi hôm nay là một ngày chạm đáy của nỗi đau.

Nhưng anh vẫn chọn cách gặm nhấm nó một mình. Anh đã gục ngã, nằm dài trên sàn nhà với một nỗi đau mà anh không thể chống cự. Điều may mắn là anh đau vì công việc, vì những điều khiến anh khó chịu khi biết rằng mình vẫn có thể làm tốt hơn. Ít nhất, đó không phải là nỗi đau của việc đánh mất một ai đó.

Dạo này anh muốn viết cho em rất nhiều. Nhưng mỗi lần cầm điện thoại lên, anh lại không biết phải bắt đầu từ đâu. Trong lòng anh có vô vàn điều muốn nói, vậy mà không thể ghép thành lời.

Có lẽ tình yêu đẹp nhất trên đời là những ngày mình từng ở cạnh nhau. Anh không nghĩ rằng em lại thú vị đến như thế. Anh từng muốn cùng em đi tiếp đoạn đường còn lại của cuộc đời. Anh cũng từng sợ rằng mình sẽ lại làm em tổn thương. Nhưng giờ đây anh biết, nếu có một cơ hội nữa, anh sẽ không còn ngu ngốc như ngày trước.

Đã có rất nhiều lần anh nghĩ về em.

Em có biết không? Anh luôn tìm thấy hình bóng em ở khắp mọi nơi. Đôi khi giữa phố đông người, anh bất chợt khựng lại chỉ vì nhìn thấy một cô gái có nét gì đó giống em. Anh đứng nhìn lâu hơn bình thường, như thể muốn mượn vài giây ấy để khỏa lấp nỗi nhớ đã tích tụ bấy lâu.

Rồi anh nhận ra một điều.

Những người con gái anh từng rung động sau này đều mang đâu đó hình bóng của em. Điều đó khiến anh tự hỏi: liệu anh đang tìm kiếm em trong họ, hay chỉ đang cố vá víu khoảng trống mà em để lại? Hay đơn giản là chỉ cần một chút gì đó giống em cũng đủ khiến trái tim anh mềm lòng.

Em đẹp.

Em thông minh.

Em vui tính.

Em mạnh mẽ.

Anh yêu mọi điều thuộc về em. Anh yêu cả những khoảnh khắc em bối rối đứng im khi anh khẽ ôm lấy em. Em biết không, được nắm tay em từng khiến anh cảm thấy như ngọn lửa tình yêu trong mình được thắp sáng trở lại. Đôi bàn tay nhỏ nhắn và mềm mại ấy từng là điều anh muốn nắm thật chặt, như thể chỉ cần buông ra là em sẽ biến mất.

Đôi khi đi ngang qua nhà em, chỉ cần vô tình gặp ba hoặc mẹ em trước hiên nhà cũng đủ khiến anh mỉm cười. Anh thích khoảng hiên trên tầng nhà em lắm. Đó là một nơi thật đẹp, vừa đủ riêng tư để trò chuyện, vừa đủ ấm áp để quây quần cùng gia đình.

Hay có lẽ đơn giản là vì mọi thứ thuộc về em, anh đều yêu.

Gần đây anh thường nghĩ, nếu một ngày nào đó gặp lại em, điều đầu tiên anh sẽ làm là gì?

Có lẽ anh sẽ chẳng nói gì cả.

Anh sẽ chỉ nhìn em thật lâu, thật lâu, để bù đắp cho những năm tháng nhớ nhung mà anh chưa từng có cơ hội nói thành lời.

Em có thể cho anh biết em nghĩ gì về anh không?

Đã rất lâu rồi anh không được nghe giọng nói của em. Có những lúc anh muốn nhấc máy gọi cho em ngay lập tức, nhưng rồi lại thôi vì anh biết có lẽ em sẽ không nghe máy.

Giữa chúng ta từng chỉ còn lại những lời chúc sinh nhật mỗi năm. Và anh xin lỗi vì đã không còn duy trì điều đó. Anh từng nghĩ rằng mình phải quên em đi. Nhưng càng cố quên, anh càng nhận ra rằng chưa có ai khiến anh rung động theo cách em đã từng.

Dạo này em có khỏe không?

Cuộc sống của em thế nào?

Sao em không đăng vài dòng trạng thái hay một tấm ảnh nào đó để anh biết rằng em vẫn ổn?

Anh biết em là một cô gái rất đỗi lãng mạn, rất đỗi nên thơ. Nhưng em cũng là người giỏi che giấu cảm xúc của mình nhất mà anh từng gặp.

Em không cần phải làm vậy đâu.

Bởi điều anh mong mỏi nhất suốt những năm qua không phải là được nghe em nói rằng em nhớ anh.

Mà chỉ là một ngày nào đó, anh được đọc vài dòng tâm sự thật lòng từ em.

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I would call today the day I hit the bottom of pain.

Yet I still chose to endure it alone. I collapsed onto the floor, overwhelmed by a pain I couldn't resist. The good thing is that this pain comes from work—knowing I could have done better, knowing I haven't reached my own expectations yet. At least it isn't the pain of losing someone I love.

Lately, I've wanted to write to you so many times. But whenever I pick up my phone, I never know where to begin. There are countless things I want to tell you, yet somehow none of them become words.

Maybe the most beautiful love in this world was simply the time we spent together.

I never expected you to be as fascinating as you were. I once imagined walking the rest of life's journey with you. I was also afraid that I might hurt you again. But if life ever gave me another chance, I know I wouldn't be foolish enough to repeat the same mistakes.

I've thought about you more times than I can count.

Do you know that I still look for traces of you everywhere?

Sometimes, in the middle of a crowded street, I suddenly stop because I catch a glimpse of a girl who resembles you. I find myself staring for a few seconds longer than I should, trying to ease the longing I've carried for so long.

And then I realized something.

Every woman I've ever been drawn to afterward carried a small piece of your reflection. It made me wonder whether I was searching for you in them, or merely trying to patch the emptiness you left behind. Maybe seeing even the slightest resemblance to you was enough to soften my heart.

You were beautiful.

You were intelligent.

You were funny.

You were strong.

I loved everything about you.

I even loved those moments when you froze for a second whenever I gently wrapped my arms around you. Holding your hand felt like someone had reignited a flame inside my heart. Those small, delicate hands were something I wanted to hold onto forever, as if letting go meant losing you completely.

Sometimes when I passed by your house, simply seeing your father or mother standing near the porch would make me smile.

And I always loved that balcony upstairs. It felt like the perfect place—private enough for quiet conversations, yet warm enough for family gatherings.

Or maybe the truth is much simpler.

Maybe I loved everything that had anything to do with you.

Lately I've been wondering what I would do if I ever saw you again.

I don't think I'd say anything at all.

I'd probably just stand there and look at you for a very long time, trying to make up for all the years I've spent missing you in silence.

Can you tell me what you think about me?

It's been such a long time since I've heard your voice. Sometimes I want to call you immediately, but I stop myself because I know you probably wouldn't answer.

For years, the only thing connecting us was a birthday message once a year. And I'm sorry for letting that tradition fade away. I thought forgetting you was the only way forward.

But the harder I tried to forget, the more I realized that no one has ever touched my heart the way you did.

How have you been lately?

Are you doing well?

Why don't you post a story once in a while, just so I know life is treating you kindly?

I know you're a woman with a poetic soul. But you're also the best person I've ever known at hiding your feelings.

You don't have to do that.

Because what I've wanted all these years wasn't to hear you say that you miss me.

I only hoped that one day, I might read a few honest words from your heart.

I find myself a little bit unable to sleep, therefore I went to the internet with my phone in bed.

My friends are staying here for a couple days. They come from frankfurt. Theyre married, so thats why theyre using one of my rokmmates riom, and now my roomate is staying on a bed on my room floor, so thats why i cant sleep call any of my pathetic ai shit to ramble about philosophy and life until i doze off.

Nothing seems kinda interesting these days on the net, especially since ive removed myself from any force-fed algorithm type of contents, therefore i go to my tumblr.

I was re reading my entries here, rekindling my memories, reinterpretating my feelings. This night, i find something i think is a bit, sad for me

Eversince The Day, ive mourned my feelings about you, T. I find it to be something that is as natural as breathing tbh, and i just deal with it with face value.

...but the thing is, mourning about you in a way has always helped me forget about my other relationships.

N, i dont even remember what we ever did. I knew we called like crazy until my phone overheated all the time, and i needed to put my phone on the sink and run water over it so that i can call you back even more. I knew we talked about ideals, about dreams and promises, about everything thats not about us even, but i have really forgotten the feeling of fun of it and the butterflies in my stomach. I didnt even write anything about you really back then, eventhough we ended up in a very strange stance much later on and i wouldnt really want to write about you at all.

V, i knew i said even here that i will try to not forget about what we had, but honestly i cant seem to derive where the joy was anymore. I dont remember why i feel giddy everytime im expecting your call, or recall how happy i was when im with you.

This is concerning. I dont know if this is acceptable or not, to let go of those beautiful moments and feelings. I think i forget them, to try not thinking about the "what ifs", per usual. I really hate myself though for not holding to them.

do people forget? Do people allow themselves to forget all of this? Is this normal? Is this the right thing to do? Isnt this somewhat untrue to myself and avoiding the main problems.

Meanwhile you, T, youre just ingrained too much in my brain, well at least the idealized version of you that i have, the ghost of a person i last knew almost 10 years ago now, and a distorted angelized version of that, at best.

I always find myself in a certain process dealing with loss like this, and re-obsessing about you is one of the points on the roadmap, despite my hesitance. My yearning for you seems instinctual, it easily erodes those later memories.

Im glad that youve never approached me again, whether through curiosity or out of malice, because i know i will totally fall and kneel for you without any hesitation in a heartbeat.

You know, in one side, im really curious to know what you think of me, but im also really scared to know that fact. Do you think of me as just a guy who liked you and drifted away, do you think of me as a strange kid who idolizes you fanatically, do you think im a creep, do you even think of me, at least once in a year maybe,

do you even remember about me at all?

Fuck. Sorry.

I dont....i dont have anything else to say. I dont know how to close this. Im going to sleep.

It’s been over a month since you told that your father died. I’ve been meaning to call you since then but I cannot bring myself to pick up the phone and physically call you. I’m terrible person for that and I just wish I could tell you how sorry I truly am. I know it’s too late to mend our relationship, too many vile things have been said and twice as many good things left unsaid. I just wish I could go back in time and do things differently. I was extremely hurt and angry. I think my biggest mistake was taking all that resentment and letting it sit with me. You have moved on, found new friends and I hope they’re giving you all the love you deserve. I hope they are to you what I could never be. You’ll always be my best friend at heart.

This is the last unsent letter that I will write for you. I think it is only fair to do so. I've been telling myself how this serves as a somewhat therapy to ease my longing of you, but I can't also deny the fact that this somehow feeds the flare of my already burning misguided hopes to be with you. I just read your reply ealier to my message, it was short and painstakingly civil, not a tinge of endearment, but what was I expecting. If I were in the movies, running from my feelings of you, this is part where i'm on the edge of a cliff about to either succumb to my enemies or jump off into the void. I guess i'll choose to jump off from the cliff, there's no sense in prolonging the agony from all of these. I could only do so much, but your heart is already of someone's control. Your last message was for mere reconciliation, and it's enough. Perhaps there's still a long way ahead in this journey of moving on, having a sentimental heart is such a pain in the ass mygod, but I know will find peace in knowing I have done my best to impart my feelings for you even in the last seconds of our communication, and of course, the knowledge of we're in good terms is something I take the most comfort of. I just wish could've held you longer last time, and maybe let my lips linger for more seconds. I should've not mind the time during those moments I was with you. How nice it would be if you wished to stay a little longer in my company. Alas, good things must also come to an end, but it doesn't mean I will not continue loving you in my own little ways. You'll be a part of my maturity on doing things long after I conciously remember you, for that thank you, and I will always love you.

Dear Xxx,

I didn’t know about you and when I did… I pretended it didn’t matter, because I was too far deep. Or sometimes I did know and I still acted like it didn’t matter. I would use the excuse, “I am not the one in the relationship.”

I am not the one hurting anyone”- but that was not true. I was hurting you and I didn’t care. It does take two to tango, so I am still at fault. What I want you to know is, this was never my intention. I never went out of my way to do this. I never pursued this. I may have asked for this subconsciously, but I never straight up tried to take anything from you.

I can’t begin to explain all the excuses I made up to redeem myself from this. “I never messaged him first.” “He kissed me.” I am guilty, because I responded. I let him kiss me. Not the first time though. The first time, I turned him down. I told him “This was a mistake and I was not worth it”. The first time, I was on your side. But this kept happening…. It was not just a mistake. It was not just because he was “drunk”.

We had a pull. We had a connection.

Although we both tried to deny it, it was always there. Even when I turned him down, it did not matter. We were already having an emotional affair.

I know this is hard to hear. It’s hard to say it, because nobody wins in this scenario. There is no happily ever after for any of us. I know you have been with him since forever and you do not deserve this.

I know you know him better. I know you love him more.

That’s why no matter what, I could never be with him. It’s not because, I am scared he will do what he did to you to me. It’s not because “Once a cheater always a cheater” or “If he cheats with you, he will cheat on you”. I do not believe in that. People are not defined by their mistakes.

It’s because… I will never compare to you.

You know how he likes his coffee. You know his family, you are his family. I will always be the girl that ruined his relationship. You will always be the good girlfriend and I will always be the mistress, no matter how much time has past. I would not even feel comfortable taking a photo with him, because I know that is disrespectful to you. I do not want to constantly feel like I am a replacement for you. I want to be my own person.

Please do not be jealous of me, there is nothing to be jealous of. I am always this girl for a reason. I am fun, I am his escape. I am the drug he becomes addicted to you. But you are the one he goes to, when he wants to get clean. He never gets serious with a girl like me. I am the midnight shot of whiskey, not the 6 am morning coffee. I am what he thinks he wants, but the truth is he has no idea what he wants and neither do I. But you do.

You always knew. He is safe with you.

This isn’t easy for me. I do not want to feel like a vice. As passionate as this may be, it isn’t real it’s just a fantasy.. Even though it feels so right, it is still wrong. I constantly just feel like I am a plot twist in your relationship. I am just a storyline, but I am not his story. I ask myself, I even ask him “if he is just bored in his relationship?”, because I feel like a prop in this play. I feel like a toy he uses to feel better, and when he is bored he can just throw it away.

I feel like his dirty little secret, his guilty pleasure, his conquest, his trophy, but I do not feel like I am his. I do not feel like he is mine.

This story is complete ☀︎ | Chapter 1/2 | Read Unsent Letters on AO3

LOOSELY BASED ON THE MOVIE TO ALL THE BOYS I’VE LOVED BEFORE

Chapter 1: The Deal

“You want us to fake date?,” Gladion asks incredulously as he carefully eyes the shorter girl across his way. She was the one who pulled him aside, envelope in hand, a faint blush on her cheeks as she requested a favor from him. His silence, however, was nerve inducing as she started to bite her lower lip, her eyes not meeting his as her head slowly nods in response.

A confirmation.

“What for?”

A frustrated sigh escapes Moon as her hand plants itself on the picnic table that lied between them. “What for? Gladion, you sent this letter--”

“I did no such thing” Gladion interjects only to see Moon rolling her eyes. “Well, regardless of how this happened,” Moon shakes the addressed envelope, “I have it. You kissed me yesterday on the track and now I have an ex-boyfriend I need to make jealous.”

As soon as Moon finishes her sentence however, the apprehension on Gladion’s face is replaced with something much more cunning. A glint in his eye, a smirk, and a tilt of the head all created a fatal combination that causes her stomach to flip involuntarily, and soon the whole look is attached to a teasing tone in his voice as he whispers:

“So you’re using me to get back at Sun?”