The unread letter
05:09
It’s been
long since the first time we saw each other. We were both on our way and no one
seemed to bother. By the steps, we almost collide, you were on your way up and I
wondered by the side. I’ve always been here before but never in my life have I
thought there’ll be a day you’ll see me, the way I saw you. I remembered once,
you used to look at me with those sharp yet gloomy eyes, those eyes which drawn
me closer to you, speculated what path you were walking and trials you’ve come
across. I was caught by your mysterious net. Those who were around don’t really
know you -They admire you, they sing praises to you, and not a single fault
they cast upon you. Your craft is not the only thing that makes you and that
they don’t know of.
I want to
tell you everything; the way I watch humans and how they love as well as hate,
of desire, fear and pain. On the contrary, I choose not to, I hid all to
myself, thinking that those words won’t mean a thing. I felt that writing
poetry and being with you is enough to let you know I care more than I should.
You’ve
always been surrounded by your muses with never ending beauty. Influential as
you are, I refrain myself from envy, not for being adored by most but from them
being at your side more than I. We always show certain respect for time, for
tasks, for friends and of being alone, except, I don’t want to be alone. I want
to be near you, I want to know those who are around you, I want to be close to
you, and maybe that you didn’t know of.
But now,
when there is no more time to spare and you no longer care, I say this to you,
the one I have loved. I don’t intend your pity and never do I will insist to
share you my grief but with the last draw of my breath, I confess all these feelings I intend to bury.
I was the
one who admired you the most. I was the one who appreciated all your crafts
maybe it be raw or aged. I was the one who cheered you the loudest from the crowd,
when everything seemed to fail. I was always in the background.
I was the
one who listened to all your stories. I was one who walked behind you when you
were lost, the hand who held you in the dark, and whose arms wrapped you when
your world started to fall apart. Thus, you weren’t able to feel them, I tell
you now, I tried. Honestly, I did as I might. But I was weak, I was scared. I
didn’t see that among all, I’d be the one who ought to fall. So, I chose for
you, I chose for us. To let you go and set you free. Because you deserve
someone better and I’ll be happy even if it’s not me. My choice might have been
wrong because I still long for you. But remember this, my dear Apollo, every
dawn, when you look up at the sky and see the moon trying to wait for the sun,
it’s like us. No need for words, we’ll always get by.
Forever
yours,
Calliope
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