I don’t know if you still remember the stories you once shared with strangers on the internet, but I hope you know they stayed with some of us long after the last chapter was read.
I was one of your readers back in 2016. I was still young then — the kind of young that believed afternoons lasted forever and that stories could fix lonely days. Now, I’m already a graduating student, standing at the edge of adulthood, carrying deadlines, responsibilities, and a version of life that became too serious too quickly.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped reading Wattpad. High school ended, reality became heavier, and I slowly lost the habit of escaping into fictional worlds. But recently, I found myself missing that feeling again — the comfort of reading late at night, the excitement of waiting for updates, the warmth your stories used to bring me.
So I searched for your works, hoping to revisit a piece of who I used to be. And when I realized they were gone, I can’t explain the sadness that settled in me. It felt like returning to a childhood home only to find it no longer there.
Your stories were never just stories to me. They became memories attached to a softer time in my life — a time when everything still felt simple, hopeful, and alive.
I don’t know your reasons for unpublishing them, and I respect whatever those reasons may be. But if there’s still a part of you willing to share them again someday, I hope you find the heart to bring them back. Not just for readers like me, but for the younger versions of ourselves that still live quietly within us.
Thank you for becoming part of my childhood without ever realizing it.
