Love letter # 536

I am writing to thank you. This may seem counter-intuitive, perhaps even smug. If so, I apologise.

There is much I do not know, and will likely never know. Maybe you are unsure yourself. All we can be sure of is that you walked out one day and never came back. Went silent. Ghosting, I think they call it.

For the record, I asked a million questions, entertained a thousand theories. And yes, I was dazed. I woke up expecting to find you; gasping at your absence. I bled until I was a husk. Then I was angry. Then numb. Yet time went by and I regained my footing. Sometimes I thought I saw you in the street and gave chase; but eventually I learned not to pursue the phantoms. The unresolved. The wild hope.

I moved through the world on the rails of your mystery. Functioning. Only breaking in private, and only for a few minutes. Each time feeling lighter after. As if I were the sky, offloading the burden of clouds.

If my sorrow was a river, it brought the plains to life. Now I see a sea of flowers.

This is what I am grateful for. The abundance you left behind.