It's been almost 2 years now, I feel like I'm cursed. You still haunt my memories. A part of me has grown to hate you. For what you did to me.... How you could throw away years of our love away.
Or is it because you knew it was fleeting... Is it because you'd never truly be able to love me forever? Was it the fact I couldn't live forever? I still find myself asking these questions, even now when I'm writing this. I thought I'd get better, but I think I'm getting worse.
I feel so stupid for still feeling this way, even after all this time. Maybe, just maybe I'll repay you for all the pain you caused me. For how you made me doubt myself. I doubt your ignorance and immaturity would lead to my death, but just maybe, if it did...
Maybe you'd change.
Maybe if I stopped writing these stupid letters I'd be able to move on.
I've been seeing a therapist recently, if you even care. I keep trying to dodge the topic of our relationship. Even though that's the whole reason I'm going. You broke me. I've thought of cancelling my sessions recently. The journey there is gruelling.
Not long, or complicated.
Not boring or a hassle.
But I always pass that damned cafe, I doubt you remeber it's name. Maybe you've forgotten about me entirely by now. Every time I pass it, I can only rember how you promised to take me again. How we always said it was our special place.
My heart hurts every time I pass it because I know, truly, it wasn't our special place. It was yours. I met you there, after years of it being your sanctuary.
Had you taken your previous lovers there?
Did you take all those people you cheated on me with there?
Sometimes when I pass it, I hope to catch a glimpse of you in there. Sitting in the same spot. Reading your book and holding your cigarette. It would always burn out before you managed to take a puff. You were too focused on reading or rambling about your new hobby.
I still rember how you'd curse at it burning out so quickly, and then promptly lightning another one. The thought of it brings a smile to my face.
I'll try stop writing these, I need to get better. Maybe I'll show them to my therapist.
With
Sam
YOU ARE READING
Unsent letters
Short StoryIn which a heart broken human writes to the immortal that broke their heart in the worst way possible. A series of what seems like unsent forgotten letters, lost in time.
