never sent

I don't think I ever properly apologized for what happened.

If I had known how things would turn out, if I had known everything I know now, I would have made very different choices. You deserved so much more. You deserved more attention, care, affection, to be listened to. You deserved to feel unique, as you truly are.

I'm not saying that one person is more to blame than the other, this or that. What happened, happened. I feel like you carried the blame for a long time, as if I hadn't been responsible for what happened too.

I try to believe that it was part of our growing and maturing, but throughout all this time, there hasn't been a single day when I haven't thought about you.

The feeling is terrible. The feeling of building something incredible and still thinking only about everything that went wrong.

To still love you with such intensity, every single day, even knowing that everything is different now. Even knowing that this has always been a feeling of mine.

There isn't much that I recognize more in myself these days. A lot has changed for the better, but there is also a lot that I hate. Writing to you now makes me hate myself for doing it.

But I feel like I needed to get this off my chest, and I know this is a selfish decision on my part. I don't know what you're going through, but I know how much writing to you could hurt so many people around me.

I hope you're doing well, that you're happy, that you've found passions and joys. I wish all of that for you, and I hate myself for not being a part of it. But maybe that was never a choice I had. Maybe I never could have been.

I hope that someday, in the future, we can meet again. I miss you so much.

Not what we were. Not who you were.

You.

Translated from portuguese