Monologue with Her: Letters Never Sent
Except for the First One
It was 15 years ago when I wrote the first letter. A letter that I never expected to shape my life the way it did. It was a moment of vulnerability, an outpouring of emotions toward someone who, at that time, represented everything I had ever wanted. She responded, but no one other than me ever saw her answer. What followed was a journey that stretched over a year and a half of writing, with the conclusion written 4 years after the last chapter, as a final reflection on the pain and longing that had consumed me for so long.
“Monologue with Her” is not just a collection of letters or words; it’s a reflection on love, loss, and the passage of time. It’s an exploration of unreciprocated feelings and the haunting question of what might have been. I decided to share this personal journey now, not because the story is still alive but because it deserves to be told in its entirety.
This is where it all began: a single letter, written late at night, sent to her with a mix of hope and uncertainty. I can still recall the rush of adrenaline as I hit that send button.
Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing this monologue piece by piece, hoping that it resonates with those who have experienced the quiet suffering of waiting for answers that may never come.
Here is the first part of that letter.
I can still remember that night—the first night I met you. Since then, I haven’t forgotten the touch of your hand, the color of your eyes, or the smell of your hair. Though it was someone else’s birthday party, you were the main focus for me. I only wanted to see and meet you. When it finally happened, I simply didn’t know what to say. I had never felt that way before in my life. I’m sure I was the luckiest person that night. We were dancing, and for a moment, I thought I was dreaming. Still, that moment didn’t last as long as I wanted it to.
Now, that night feels like a quick blink of an eye—but not just an ordinary blink. It was a blink worth living for. I keep asking myself, “Why, why didn’t I meet you earlier?” I guess I’ll never find the answer to that question.
This marks the beginning of “Monologue with Her: Letters Never Sent.”
Every week, I’ll share a new part of the story. I invite you to follow along and perhaps see something of your own experience reflected in these words.
