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I write things I could never say to you. I leave them somewhere anonymous, hidden among thousands of other words, and for a few minutes I pretend you might somehow find them. That you might read them and recognise yourself in every sentence. It’s the only place I let myself tell the truth. But today I had a thought that scared me. What if one day, somehow, we actually found each other among all those anonymous words? What if I recognised you by the things you couldn’t say out loud? And what if, while I had been writing my heart out to you all this time, you had been writing yours out to someone else? I don’t know what would hurt more, finding you, or finding out that none of those words were ever meant for me. Because behind every anonymous word I’ve written, there has only ever been one person I was secretly hoping would find them. You. And I’m terrified that if you ever do, I’ll discover you’ve been writing your heart out too… just never to me.
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