Dear You, “A letter to the one I never told.”
Some words have sat in my chest far too long; words I buried beneath pride, confusion, and time. And perhaps this letter will never reach your hands, but if it does, I hope you read it with the same gentleness you once showed me, without asking for anything in return.
I’ve been thinking about the moments we never claimed; the quiet laughter, the way your care filled the empty corners of my soul, the peace your presence gave me, even when I said nothing at all. I’ve come to realize that there are people who walk into our lives and awaken something we never knew we needed. You were one of them.
I miss those soft days when you saw me beyond the lack—when I had nothing to offer but dreams and scars, and you still looked at me like I mattered. Your kindness was loud even in silence, and I didn’t know how to hold it, because I treasured it, and I was scared of ruining something so rare. Now I find myself wishing for lost time, for conversations we didn’t finish, for the space to just be without fear, without holding back.
If there's a corner of your heart that still remembers the version of me who smiled differently around you, I want you to know that he’s still here. A little quieter now, maybe. A little more bruised. But still full of a love that never got the chance to bloom.
I’m not asking for a guarantee, but for a chance, a moment, a walk, a shared silence, a small chapter where we write something new from the ashes of what was almost something.
If life has already taken you far, then I’ll carry this affection with grace and gratitude. But if there's a way to find our way back to the place we never got to explore fully, I’d love to meet you there, with honesty, with healing, and with the same pure heart that saw something special in you from the very start.
With more sincerity than I ever showed,
Wabwire Elias