A pointless letter

Dear S.E,

I’m worried about you. You told me not to contact you until you feel better. So, I have nowhere to say the things I want to say to you. I’ll write this pseudo-letter and post it on the internet for everybody but you to see. I’m worried about you. Every time we talked you seemed stressed and unable to extricate yourself from what’s causing you stress. I know that feeling very intimately though differently. I’m afraid for you. I’m afraid that you’ll make the same decision I almost made several times. I want to remind you, I’m here. I’m here. Please don’t forget I’m here. I’m here even though I can’t seem to offer you comfort, the basic thing a friend is supposed to do. I’m here don’t forget me; I’m waiting for you to call me. Please tell me if our friendship has ended then I’ll be in peace with the fact that that was all that ended. Maybe I’m projecting. Maybe I’m blowing this out of proportion. Maybe you’re alright, or getting there and I’m just over-reacting and needlessly panicking.

Space is something I want to give you. But I’m afraid it’ll become a gap, an expanse, an abyss and a vacuum finally. Tell me something please. I’m waiting, praying (I’ve started praying) for you to tell something, something. Tell me you feel depressed, fine, shitty, anxious, happy, relieved, stressed; I beg you tell me something. I hope against hope that’ll you see this and tell me I was out of mind. Crazy to write something so ludicrous, a letter intended for everyone but the addressee to see and how I was wrong you weren’t at all how I pictured you to be.

I wish to talk to you again. So I’ll know how you are. I want to hear about you. You don’t know afraid I am, that you’ll just fade away from my life. But maybe that’s just what you need right now. To be away from anything that reminds you of things you don’t want to remember. Maybe I was insensitive and talked about myself. Maybe you need me out of your life to feel better. Maybe I’m the one that keeps bringing you down. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know because you haven’t told me anything. Maybe Time will be the one to tell me. Maybe we’ve reached the natural end of our friendship. Maybe we need to move on rather than dwell on the happy, boring days we had. Maybe we need to dissipate gradually from each other’s life. I read somewhere that some people are merely chapters in your book. I agreed with that thinking not all connections are meant to be. Never I believed it could be us. But S can you think of how sad that’ll be? I’ll wait still because that’s all I can do anyway.

Waiting and wanting to hear from you


I’ve been wondering when to post this. And what do you know? Today’s your birthday. So here it goes.

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