Some letters aren’t meant to be sent but they still deserve to be written.

This is one of those.

It’s the kind you write to empty your chest. To make peace with what was, what wasn’t, and what you still wish could be. Maybe you’ve loved someone who couldn’t stay. Maybe you’re still picking up the pieces. If so, this letter is for you, too. I don’t have all the answers. I just know writing helps. And sometimes, that’s enough

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Dear you,

I’ve been meaning to tell you, you confuse me. You make me question my sanity. Did I dream it all up? Is it all in my head? But how could it all be in my head when I didn’t flirt with myself? I didn’t spend hours talking to myself on the phone about everything and anything. I didn’t kiss myself tenderly or reach the deepest parts of my body by myself. No, you did all of it with me.

Tell me why it wasn’t enough to make you decide I’m the one. Tell me why you still hold my hands tenderly even though you have no intentions of keeping them. Why do you hug me and breathe like I’m home when you’re just a visitor stopping by? Why do you look at me like the universe exists behind my eyes but you’d rather not have it?

How dare you call my heart uncommon but still want nothing to do with it? Why do you live rent-free in my heart and head and just not move out?

I think I thoroughly dislike how I feel so much for you with nothing and nowhere to channel these feelings. I want to say I wish we never got talking but how do I release these memories I’ve come to cherish?

What happened to the way I once made you feel? At what point did you decide I wasn’t what you wanted? What role did I play in ruining what could potentially have been us? Was it ever real for you, or was I just something that gave you an ego boost? Did you enjoy knowing you could have me if you wanted, and so you did?

Why did you come to me feeling so permanent when you knew you were temporary?

You’ve made a mess of a confident woman. I can’t recognize who I’ve become. I opened myself up to you and allowed myself to get lost in the maze that is you. I’m trying to find who I was before you, and she feels like a distant memory. I’m trying to find who I am after you, and it feels like the more I seek, the less I see.

You’ve knocked me down and made me weak to my knees.

How dare you try to make a desperate woman out of me?

I am not that. I can function without you, and I will if I must. You don’t define me. Your love or the lack of it doesn’t validate me. I am everything I will be already. Whole.

I dislike how much you’ve made me doubt myself. I want to erase the memories of us.

You, you stepped in and stole my heart without warning but if you won’t give me yours, then just get out of my bloody head and heart.

Cool?

Cool.

You don’t get to keep my peace. Or my pen. Or the parts of me that are still becoming. I do.

—Fola

Dear me,

You saw something beautiful and held it with care. And now you’re holding that same care in your hands with nowhere to pour it. When someone feels like home, everything in you wants to run back there even when you know that home is no longer yours to return to in the same way. It’s not just about missing him. It’s about missing what it felt like to be with him: seen, safe, and soft. You already carry a whole universe of value. And someone choosing you should confirm that not define it.

Your desire to be loved, chosen, and understood is not too much. Your softness is not a flaw. Your feelings are not a burden. The fact that you care deeply and long for intimacy doesn’t make you the common denominator in a bad way—it makes you human. Beautifully, bravely human.

People don’t always leave because you did something wrong. Sometimes they leave because they aren’t ready. Because they’re scared. Because timing is cruel. Because God is doing something behind the scenes that you can’t see yet. And yes, sometimes people leave because they weren’t meant to stay and it has nothing to do with your value.

I know your mind is trying to find control by asking “what did I do?” But love isn’t a test you failed, and their leaving isn’t your punishment. Sometimes the people who see your light still choose the dark, and that’s not your fault.

You’re not hard to love. You’re just waiting for someone who knows how to stay.

With Love,

Fola.