Letters I Never Sent

Well, I didn’t really think I would be writing this today, but my heart suddenly feels heavy. Strange, right? It wasn’t supposed to. Because honestly, today was a good day. I went downtown all by myself just to wander around. Window shopping? Kinda underrated, it's actually a whole vibe. And yes, I did end up buying something for myself. Maybe I’ll show it off someday.

There’s a different kind of peace that comes from going out alone. It’s like the outside noise dims just enough for you to finally hear what’s going on inside. And just when I thought all those old feelings had lost their place, they came rushing back the moment I had space to feel. Not one at a time either. They arrive like a whole emotional flash mob.

And I ask myself, am I strong enough to fight them? Do I even need to fight them? Is there some magic backdoor out of this mess? But I know the truth. There’s no running. They live inside me. Healing isn’t an escape. It’s a process. A slow, step-by-step climb.

So, step one. What makes me feel alive? Writing. Like this, putting thoughts into words. Somehow, it helps. And singing. Maybe even writing a song someday. Not for some dramatic sagar-pari-ko-mayalu or my neighbor’s emo-looking son (lol, never wrote for anyone like that anyway), but something just for me. Is that narcissistic? I hope not. I’d rather call it growth. Personality development is real, people.

And then comes learning how to be alone. Why do we crave company? Is it really about connection, or just distraction? Maybe both. But the truth is, the only person who can fully understand your chaos is you.

I used to roll my eyes when someone said healing starts with loving yourself. Like, what even is loving yourself? Staring at my selfie for an hour? Don’t tempt me. But now, I think it’s different for everyone. For me, it’s about being honest with myself. Owning how I feel. Accepting the parts of me that need work. Doing things that bring me closer to who I used to be. Listening to that inner child who never gave up on me. She’s always been there, watching, cheering me on. Maybe it’s time I cheer back.

Another thing that’s helped is letting myself feel guilt, but not letting it define me. I’m not proud of everything I’ve done or how I handled some things. I’ve made choices. Some people hurt me. Maybe I hurt them too. But if I truly loved them at one point, why carry bitterness? Why talk badly about someone who was once my peace? Maybe we do that to cope, but does it ever really make us feel better, or just more empty?

So to the friends and people I’ve loved, if I’ve ever hurt you, I’m sorry. These are the words I never said out loud. This is me letting go of the guilt and taking a small, brave step toward being better. For you, and mostly for me.

Well this is it. Gotta end with the only good picture in a while