So,
okay i’m just gonna say this — you probably don’t even realize how much your stories meant.
like... you gave something that didn’t feel like fiction. it felt real. it felt like someone finally understood what we couldn’t even explain. and then... it just stopped.
i know you’ve been through stuff. real, heavy stuff. and i’m not here to guilt-trip or anything, promise.
but i just keep thinking — if writing ever brought you even a tiny piece of peace, maybe… finishing this could give you a little more of that?
maybe you think no one’s still waiting. that everyone forgot. but nah. we didn’t. i didn’t. i’m still here, rereading, still stuck on those last lines, still wondering where they would’ve gone.
and yeah, maybe this message won’t change anything. maybe you won’t even see it. or maybe you will, and you’ll just scroll past.
but if there’s even one small part of you that misses writing… don’t push it away.
we’re still here. quietly hoping.
don’t deny us this. don’t deny yourself.
I'm sorry