19/8/22

Brittle

I always imagined how it would feel to read a letter from you. What would you write to me? About how was your day? Maybe about how happy you must be with spring just around the corner, since you dislike winter a bit because of the cold? 

How would you write, in swirly bold or some sort of gigantic font? would you write in paragraphs, a letter so dedicated to every side of you, from the most energic to the most hidden and troubled? or would you  be simple and to the point, reminding me of whom I'm really talking about right now?

Would you write me about your sad eyes when you look at the sky sometimes? would you explain the reason why your energy feels so timid and breakable, so unlike you? 

..You're one of those stars in my life that still can't seem to reach, no matter how much I try. You are always there, but something feels off: your eyes don't shine how they used to, you don't share how you really feel about life and those near you, and I can tell by just looking at you.  I'm worried about you, but no matter how many letters I could write: Deep in my heart I know you would never reply to any of them, and it gives me sorrow.

But still, I like to imagine it. To have a reason to believe that one day you'll tell me what's wrong, to let me help you open up. I promise that if you let me I'll do it so gently and carefully you won't feel a bit exposed. I only want you to be okay and heard, understood. Your well being is very important to me and I hope you know it. I hope you haven't forgotten it... 

I really do.