handwritten letters are substantial;
they are forged, shaped, and moulded with care – may it be quiet or reckless.
handwritten letters are unique;
they’re not made of unified fonts and emojis but of someone’s particular handwriting and scriptural language.
handwritten letters possess much more than the words that are set down on a few sheets of paper;
they breathe in the scent of the person who created them and absorb their tears and laughs, and all sorts of emotions.
some words are too important to be read on a fleeting screen.
some words need to be handwritten.
The first thing I really want to say is I’m sorry.
I’m sorry because we’d just come back home from a very lovely evening eating crepes at MAMIE’S, that fairly new sweet and oh-so-French restaurant at the heart of Covent Garden. You know how I love these places, how with just a little bite, they give me a taste of where I grew up and how happy it makes me.
I’m sorry because it was a very lovely evening. I hadn’t seen you in a while, and I wish you could have been in my shoes that afternoon as I was counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds left before I could see the friendly face of my best friend again and feel his warm embrace I miss so very dearly when we’re away. I wish you could have felt my happy and excited heart, because once you found me, leaning back against the black wall outside the creperie, this joy went to play hide-and-seek. And I am so mad at myself for not having been able to talk more, and smile more, and even listen more carefully. I tried. I tried because it was you. I tried because you were here and it was so perfect until it wasn’t anymore, until my darkness crept in. And yet, you stood still, you stuck with and beside me like you always do when that happens.
Later… I jumped on the first train. I jumped on the first train and it felt empty again. I started to feel the tears flooding my eyes and my body shaking, and my mind getting completely out of control. And at that moment, I only wished I had asked you to stay a little while longer.
But I didn’t.
Once back in my room, I closed all the curtains and locked myself up. The storm was here. Once again. It didn’t pass. It didn’t want to pass. So I texted you. I said I wanted life to end. I texted you because I felt and I knew, deep down, that I was about to do something terribly wrong, and something I didn’t really want to do. You said it would pass. Of course, I didn’t believe you, and replied ‘whatever’, thinking you had no idea what you were talking about. Please know that I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it – what I wrote or thought. I simply couldn’t believe you, I was in pain, and I became rude and mean and arrogant and everything I am not in just the time of an instantaneous message. And I’m sorry.
I made things worse myself by pushing you away. And I did some really stupid things to myself that night – things I’m too ashamed to name and write down. But you know. You know everything. And you’re still here. Still standing. You forgive and you stick around, and say it’s all going to be ok. Because you know I can be stronger than this and beat this. You know what to say. And you know what not to say.
So I guess the second thing I want to tell you is thank you.
Thank you for never staying mad for too long or even getting mad at all.
Thank you for sticking with me through all of the nights I’m drowning – just like that one. No matter how long it takes. No matter how hard it is. Thank you for telling me that it’s ok, and that it’s going to be ok.
Thank you for caring. No actually, let me rephrase that – thank you for caring enough.
Thank you for being patient, even if it’s not your strongest point. Thank you for making the effort. For me.
Thank you for not leaving me alone, when I don’t trust myself to be left in my own hands anymore.
Thank you for checking on me, for asking if I’ve eaten. And even when I lie, thank you for trying your best to help me find some appetite.
Thank you for holding me tight, when I am crumbling inside and outside.
Thank you for loving me the way I am, and thank you for saying it and making me feel it. Thank you for reminding me how important I am to you and how much I matter.
Thank you for being you.
Thank you for still confiding in me. For not treating me any different. Because it at least gives me a little sense of purpose.
Thank you for constantly pushing me to become the person I want to become and create the life I want for myself.
Thank you. Because I probably wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you. I very likely wouldn’t be giving life so many chances if you weren’t in it. I mean… god knows where or how I would have ended that night if you hadn’t been on the other side of the phone, ready to answer. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m always gonna be here, and I’m never gonna stop wanting for you what you want for yourself,” you told me. Thank you for saying this.
Thank you for being my best friend.
Thank you for keeping me alive.
I love you.