Dear Person; the Things I Never Got to Tell You

1am // The tiny village I call home where nothing ever happens has long drifted into sleep. Silence surrounds everything around me, but inside my head it's unusually loud; filled with the voices of people who thought that their stories would forever remain unheard. 
I don't know how I came across them but at some point I found myself going through the lost and forgotten corner of the web - blogs people had written in 2001, ...3, ..11. They barely include one or two posts; all directed at people they had never had the courage to tell the things that are now left untold. Strange thinking that I was a child then; completely unaware of everything people experienced around me.
What I did is easy to explain: I visited all websites that followed the structure of It'd be a lie if I said I was in any way prepared for what was about to come. Without knowing what was happening, I found myself in the middle of the night listening to people and their stories about that one person whom they somehow couldn't forget. It's truly heart-breaking and gut-wrenching to see that no matter how many years or kilometers separate us, we always go trough the same things and make the same mistakes ... over and over and over again. 

Here are some hidden gems I found on my way, truly beautiful sentences that expose the desperation all of us feel at some point in our lives. The most interesting part, at least for me, is that all these people aren't proper writers. I learned that it doesn't take creative writing courses or books on how to write in order to create such beauty. You need to know what pain feels like, if you want to touch another person's heart with the written word.

I guess it's that I think bad things can happen when a man never tell the truth; he has to have at least one person or place or whatever where he tells the truth or else he begins to believe his own lies and that is the beginning of the descent into drooling craziness and I don't want to go there.

I don't really know how to feel anymore. I don't even necessarily care either. 

I never have time to think anymore and it drives me crazy. 

It's rare that you find someone that is what you're looking for, and if it happened to anyone, I'm glad it was you. 

I just feel kind of numb lately, but I feel good. I hope everything is good on your end, man. 
It's funny how things look in memory.
You left me with a large amount of love.

A woman, now a wife and mother of two children aged 26, to her first love Antony (September 2007):
The guy long gone in my life but the one that showed me how to love the man I am now with. And I hope that you are doing well wherever you are. 
We would get really close, fight, stop talking, repeat. 

We were never official. But I loved him. He loved me. If he had asked me to marry him, I would have said yes.

Where do you even meet people after you're done with college?

Tricia to her husband Brian that worked as a fireman and died on 9/11 (January 2004):
Today I feel like stomping my feet and proclaiming that life isn't fair (It's not, but I guess you already know that). 

It's weird that we couldn't find you. Poof, gone. Not only in a spiritual sense, but in a physical sense too. Atomized, was the lovely word used, I think. What must it feel like to be atomized? I can't even think about it. 

Keep an eye on them, ok? While you're at it, keep an eye on me too.
Things are weird here without you. The house seems really empty with just me and mom. I can tell when she's thinking about you because she starts cleaning. 

Hope you're doing okay.

You looked like you were searching for something. Back and forth, up and down, you moved all around and could not find it. I turned my vision back to the African novel sitting open on my lap, trying to bring my thoughts back to it, but instead I thought about your search and I realized that I was searching for something too, something I now know I will never find in you. 
Today has been one of those days - the kind that is absolutely perfect except for the fact that I missed you through every second of it. 

I wouldn't be missing you. And you wouldn't be doing whatever it is you do on a rainy January night completely oblivious to the rambling thoughts of a lonely, heartsick girl.

I wonder if you know how deeply you touched my life.
And I wonder: did I impact yours at all?

I wonder if Tom has found the right girl for him, I really hope he has. And if Cameron saw his brother again, and how his last two years of school went. For some reason, these were the stories that touched me the most. I also wonder if perhaps I have ever seen any of these people, on the street perhaps, or somewhere else or if any of them have seen each other.
All of this has left me thinking, and confused.



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