Letters I Never Sent

***COMPLETED***

He was never mine.
That was the problem.

This isn't a love story, at least not yet. It's a collection of diary entries written in the middle of it all. Late night thoughts, half finished feelings, and moments that meant everything but were never named. Somewhere between confessions, lingering touches, and conversations that went on too long to be "just friends," I started writing things I could never say out loud.

Everyone else could see what it looked like. But nothing was ever official enough to hold onto, and nothing ever lasted long enough to break cleanly either.

So I wrote instead.

Because loving someone who acts like they might choose you, until they don't, is one thing.

Pretending it doesn't stay with you is another.