Hey…
I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. I don’t even know where you went… but I still wanted to write.
You disappeared so suddenly. One day you were here, writing, feeling everything with us… and then just gone. It feels empty in a way I didn’t expect.
I keep thinking about your stories.
About the way you wrote them… how real they felt, how they made everything a little less heavy. You didn’t just write for fun—you made something people could stay in. I stayed in it too.
And I keep thinking… I hope you didn’t delete them.
I hope somewhere, they still exist. Because they mattered. You mattered.
I know things hurt right now. I know it probably felt like everything just broke at once. I felt it too. Still do, honestly.
But I wish you didn’t have to carry that alone.
If you left because it was too much… I understand. Really.
But I hope one day, when it hurts a little less, you come back. Even if it’s just for a moment.
You don’t have to write again.
You don’t have to be strong.
Just… exist here again.
And if you ever see this—
please know someone is still thinking about you.
Still grateful.
Still waiting, in a quiet way.
Take your time.
But don’t forget… what you created didn’t disappear. It’s still here, in people like me.
