"My Dear..."

 

I loved sitting with you in silence. Yet, there were so many things I wanted to tell you. Now, I am left with unspoken words— sentiments I kept safe for tomorrow. But not a single tomorrow arrived. My dear, what do I do about those—spreading their roots, clenching my soul? More than missing you, I miss those moments when I could have been free from those unspoken thoughts. I was so wrong about the certainty of life. You were kind enough to introduce me to the uncertainty of existence. I can't do anything now except live with them. Occasionally, I find myself ensnared by those unspoken things as if falling into dreams. I know it has nothing to do with you—but at some point, it particularly did regarding those moments.

It is so easy to accept the baggage of unspoken words rather than truly expect oneself to speak about them. Please, do not feel pity for me, my dear. I don't want you to feel anything for me. I am here for myself!

People like me have a lot to say, yet we hold back, waiting for the perfect moment to express ourselves in the perfect frame. We, imperfect individuals, continuously seek perfection. We are dangerously self-aware beings who imagine the consequences before saying anything, often leaving us unspoken. In return, the remaining unspoken leaves us bleeding.

See, how unconscious we become about sharing the unexpressed sentiments in the world around us. My dear, we never fall short of words; we are just.....  

~A