What I Never Published

Its been 9 months now closing in to a year, and I found a piece sitting in my notebook, too personal at the time to let out.

It’s been a little over 4 months now since we’ve turned our backs to each other, and started walking to the beat of our own lives. There were so many things that I wanted to say to you, things I wanted to tell you about, but couldn’t. You decided to cut contact, and so my thoughts have been just collecting. Slowly piling up in my mind, and I can’t seem to hold them without putting it down in writing anymore. Like sending out a bottled message, I hope it reaches you one day.

Since falling out of love with you, things have literally shifted around in my world. Remember that table we bought together, just long enough for both of us to sit and work together? It was placed rather oddly, juxtaposed to the window, and so I pushed it to the corner of the room. Now it sits there caving downwards ever so slowly from the weight of the monitor and printer combined. Filler wood just isn’t durable at all.

Memories have always been a haunting thought as I walk around South Beach, where we would stroll through at night to watch the bay lights dance. High rises have now completely towered over once a beautiful view of FIDI. That windowless building we always joked about what could be possibly inside, is now next to many more apartments, and they are all finished. Construction was never fun to walk through in the dead of night, when we used to stay up till 1 am in the morning working on your portfolio.

I’ve read your letter, and thought many times to send one back to you, but it would just hurt the both of us more. I don’t think you need to be reminded of how I felt back then, nor how I used to speak to you when I’m trying to explain myself. It’s oddly ironic that I hope you find my words on here, because hopefully the platform on which it’s published will make it less personal.

Tbh I can’t even remember why I gave such a fuck.

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