A Letter of words unsaid
I told him I could not allow myself to be vulnerable again. I told him I do not have it in me to go back to that place. What I did not say was that every day I want to go back to that place; every day seems like I never even left, and that everyday feeling this way makes me question whether time actually heals.
What I did not tell him is that I am healing too, from scars far beyond him. Scars that I thought he could heal but did not. What I did not tell him is how selfish it was of me to expect something so impossible dooming us from the start.
Somethings are best left unsaid.
This is easier said than done, and yet, I still cannot say it all.
