THE MESSAGE I NEVER SENT.🥺📝📩🚮

If you can write,you should be able to send… Before me lies my diary, a book with a darkish fold cover. I assume it's black because it's a shadow of my thoughts, with my name, "Keeyra," inscribed on it. Do I know what secrets it holds? Maybe not. The message I never sent haunts me. I got lost in my own thoughts, overshadowed by the weight of my emotions. I opened my diary, my non-living twin that knows me best, but its pages were blank. Why? I asked myself. Oh, the message never got written down; instead, it occupied a room in my mind. Tears trickled down my cheeks. The Message I Never Sent I sat in my quiet apartment, staring blankly at the wall, my mind consumed by the message I had typed out on my phone. Six simple words: "I love you, Can I be yours?" But I never sent it. Months had passed since I met him in my dreams – the smile, the piercing eyes, the chiseled features. I felt a tap on my shoulder; it was my mom. "Get ready, we're going out tonight," she said. I glanced at my phone; it was only 3 pm. Who has vivid dreams in the afternoon? It's been months since I met my dream guy. I changed environments, and it changed me, but his face remained etched in my memory. He vanished from my dreams, and I couldn't bridge the distance between us. At a gathering, I heard a voice say, "Get to know each other better." I turned around, and my heart skipped a beat – it was him. I was lost for words, hesitant to reveal my true feelings. Our conversation was brief, and I never saw him again. I didn't cover up for myself now..I described myself in one word..He chuckled and that was all..Maybe he didn't like the real me. I drafted a message, my fingers trembling as I typed: "I could never say we could go back to how we used to... Every time I think back , I still miss you. Now our families can't even speak to each other. I still see your face when I sleep; I always love you,maybe we were meant to be strangers" But I was too proud to send it. I didn't want to seem weak or needy. The message remained unsent, a constant reminder of what could never be. I deleted it, threw my phone across the room, and let the tears fall. The message I never sent still lingers in my mind, a scar that might heal with time. Or maybe it won't. Who knows? <a class="tc-blue external-link external-link" href="https://twocents.space/insights/tag/keeyra" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#keeyra</a>

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