A Letter You’ll Never See
(because you don’t deserve that part of me anymore)
I could start this by asking why, but I won’t — because I know I’ll never get an answer.
You made sure of that when you disappeared without a single word.
Not a conversation. Not an explanation. Not even a goodbye.
Just silence.
And somehow, even after everything, I’m the one left with the guilt of being too honest.
You see, I spent so long defending you — against your own friends, your own doubts, your worst moments.
I stood by you when others backed away. When people mocked your choices, when they questioned your worth — I held the line.
And yet when it came to me… you vanished like I was nothing. Like I didn’t matter. Like the years we built were disposable.
You abandoned me once in 11th grade— remember that?
I gave you a second chance.
And then I gave you loyalty, support, late-night talks, silent protection, and all the care I didn’t even give myself.
I watched you cry, break, spiral, laugh, survive — and I was there.
You? You chose convenience over conversation.
You chose blocking me instead of confronting me.
You chose silence when I had done nothing but stay.
So no, this isn’t a letter asking you to come back.
It’s a letter letting you know — in a world where I could’ve screamed forever, I’m finally going quiet.
Not because I forgive what you did. But because I finally choose myself.
I deserved more than an exit wound where a friend once stood.
And you? You don’t deserve to hear from me ever again.
But I’ll say this here, in the dark corner of the internet you’ll never find:
I meant every moment. I was real. I gave a damn.
You? You ran.
I won’t chase someone who treats people like phases.
Goodbye — not in love, not in hate — but in rage, clarity, and release.
— Me.
