There are goodbyes that leave an indelible mark on our lives, those that don't need words to be understood because their weight is felt in the soul. This is the story of a letter that was never written, but whose message has resonated in my heart.

It wasn't a conscious decision. There wasn't a night spent staring at a blank page, searching for the perfect words. Perhaps because I didn't want to accept that the goodbye was final, or perhaps because I feared that by writing it down, that ending would become real. But now I understand that silence was both my refuge and my mistake.

I remember so clearly the day we said goodbye. Your eyes held a mixture of sadness and hope I'd never seen before. You wanted everything to be alright, even though you knew our lives would take different paths. I was frozen, unable to speak, much less write. There was so much I wanted to tell you, so many things trapped in my chest, like a knot that never came undone.

Over time, I understood that that letter wasn't just for you, but for me too. It was my chance to let go, to release the weight of the unspoken and make peace with a past that often trapped me in nostalgia. But that letter never reached you, because I was never enough.

Life went on, and the pain transformed into learning. I learned that second chances aren't always possible, that words have healing power when used in time, and that love transcends even absence. That unwritten letter became a symbol of everything I'm grateful for, of the lessons you taught me, and of how you shaped who I am today.

If I could go back in time, I would have taken a pen and paper to write to you. I would have told you how much I value you, how much I will learn from you, and how you change me forever. I would have thanked you for being a part of my life, even if only for a brief moment.

Today, although the letter does not exist

"Whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men." — Colossians