A letter you will never read

Unspoken words. I have recited those a couple of times in my head, often on dark nights. Dark suits you after all. I wrote you a letter once, much like this one, in hopes I would ever have the chance to send it to you, and then deleted it as I realised the meaninglessness of it. Yet, here I am, once again, writing the letter you will never read.

It was a lonely evening in the summer when I watched it again – the movie. The movie that was the inspiration for your nickname. Each time they said the name aloud in the movie, I couldn’t help but picture your person in the place of that actor. How nicely it fit.

A movie with a dark and strong side, it was. A movie about freedom, about the insanity of sane people, and about the light that exists in the hearts we least expect. A movie about being human. Somehow, it reminded me of you much more than I ever expected.

I remember the title I gave that deleted letter I wrote you. I called it “the invisible mark we leave on the hearts of others”. Some marks are tiny and others are large. No matter who you are, you will always leave an invisible mark on the people you cross paths with, and that mark will shape the other person, even if just a little.

I wonder what kinds of marks I left on other people. I wonder what kind of mark I left on you. I know what kind of mark you left on me, and if I have to be honest, I’m grateful for it. With that mark, I was able to see the wonder of my darker side, without fearing it as much. With that mark, I was able to see the world as a bigger place. With that mark, I could feel my heart grow a bit larger, for it could hold a bit more of the world within.

Sometimes I wonder what happened to you. Sometimes I wonder what happened to your family. Sometimes I wonder if you still share this world with me. Yet the answers remain with you. It’s okay, because I can still look far in the distance and remember you for your stories. Those stories full of wonder that seemed to jump right out of a fiction book.

Even though sometimes I think of unspoken words, I wonder how many words were actually left unspoken. Maybe none at all. Maybe just an “I will miss you”. If I thought those four words would have made your life a bit lighter, I would have said them, for now I know I might never hear from you again. I dreamed of hope in those days.

You always asked me the most unexpected questions, I remember that well. I always wondered how you came by those, if they were whispered on your ear or grew in your heart. Either way, they made me sure that your soul is deeper than the ocean, while mine is as shallow as a pond. If you were to ask me one of those questions now, I’m not sure I could reply, for time feels like it has stopped for me a couple of months ago.

I could write to you for hours in this letter that you will never read. I could say much more of those unspoken words. I also couldn’t say any more, for there is nothing left to be said. Light and dark often come to my mind whenever I remember you. A contrast of opposites, yet one can’t be without the other. I’ll end my letter here, knowing it will keep being written through times, with unspoken words.

As a gift, I leave you a photo I took on that foggy morning. The morning I met you.