I Keep Your Silence in My Coat

A letter about unreturned love, quiet heartbreak, and learning to let go with tenderness.

There are letters that arrive, and then there are letters that stay suspended in the air between two people like dust in late afternoon. This is one of those letters — addressed, folded, never posted, and carried quietly in the lining of my days.

I write to you the way people speak to an empty room they once shared with someone they loved: softly, carefully, as if the walls might remember.

The Envelope I Never Sealed

Your name sits at the top of this page the way dusk sits on a valley — not loud, not demanding, simply inevitable.

I have rewritten you many times. In some versions, you answer. In others, you turn away. In most, you remain exactly as you were: somewhere else, living a life that no longer includes me except as a passing thought you do not pause to hold.

I keep wondering what you would recognize if you ever read this. Would you see me? Or only the echo of someone