To the one who left before I could heal

You left before the storm inside me settled.

And though I screamed in silence and mourned in whispers,

You never turned back.

I wrote letters I never sent, lines soaked in sorrow, gratitude, and unfinished goodbyes.

But maybe it’s better this way.

Maybe you were meant to be a chapter, not the story.

So this letter is not for you anymore.

It’s for the version of me who survived.

Who rose after the ruins.

Who finally understood that healing isn’t an invitation back, however a doorway forward.

I’ll keep writing, not because I expect you to read them.

But because I’m finally listening to myself.