A letter I never sent

You don’t know this, but I almost wrote to you last year.

I thought about you on a Tuesday, during rain.

Not because I missed you exactly—

But because I missed the version of myself that only existed when you looked at me like that.

There are things I’d still say, if I knew you’d listen.

But I’ve learned something:

Some letters don’t need to be sent.

They just need to be written—

So we can put them down,

And walk forward,

Lighter.