This is the first in a series of posts titled "Unsent Letters." I have written letters that I don't intend to send as long as I can remember as a coping mechanism. As a child, I wrote letters to God, to my parents, to my teachers. Sometimes, I don't send them because they are for my eyes only, containing my most deeply held secrets. Sometimes, I don't send them because I'm afraid they might hurt the named recipient. Other times, I don't send them because I'm lazy, or because I don't want to buy postage, or because I forget. This series is an ode to the letters I'll never send. See the full series here.
I check on you on Facebook every once in a while. Not too often -- I know it's not my responsibility or my privilege anymore. But I still care, and I want to see how you're doing.
You don't post much, but what you do post appear like little morsels of joy on your timeline. Pictures of you and your sweetheart. Posts to and from your family.
You and your dearest are beautiful together. I hope it's as fulfilling a relationship as it appears on Facebook, because you deserve that. You deserve to have a happy, non-catastrophic, enduring, comfortable relationship. Everyone does.
I'm unbelievably pleased that you appear to have found joy. I hope you are truly happy. I hope you have found satisfaction in every facet of your life. I hope you are pursuing your dreams.
Please don't be concerned that any of this means I'm still in love with you, or in love with you again. I'm not. I have found pure joy in my life. It's not always sunshine and rainbows and happiness (remember that?), and it can be hard sometimes, but my life and my love provide every bit of contentment I've always longed for.
But I still care about you, and I always will. Best of luck.
Wishing you all the best,
Lindsie
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