The Letter Never Sent

Dear Delyara, There is a name I haven’t said out loud in three years. It sits in my throat like a jagged piece of glass. You left without a goodbye, leaving me with a thousand half-finished sentences and a heart full of questions that will never have answers. Tonight, in the flickering amber light of the sanctuary, I finally sat down to finish our conversation. I wrote about the morning coffee we’ll never share and the way the house feels too big without your laughter. I told the paper the things I was too proud—or too scared—to say when you were standing in front of me. As I signed my name at the bottom, the glass in my throat finally dissolved. I am leaving this letter here because I can’t follow you where you went, but I can finally stop waiting for you to come back.