Unboxing the Unspoken: Heal

Dear you,

I know you’re doing just fine.

I am, too. I know that by now, you know I’m okay. Finally, I am okay.

Though I’d have to be honest, ever since I’ve built the wall and blocked you out from my social media and from my life, I’ve never heard anything from and about you. It’s stupid, I know. I did everything just to NOT see how you’re doing, where you’ve been, what you’ve been up to. I chose to live in blindness when it comes to you, and I even blocked everyone that’s connected to you as well. At that time, I know it’s the right thing to do.

But the truth is that, yes, it did let me heal, but I never forgot you. The disconnection has only alleviated the pain, but there are still times when I suddenly remember you. There are times when I’m at the mall and think of the chances that I’d bump into you, and wonder how I would react. It almost happened once, but I ran away so you never knew.

It has been months, and now, I have decided to tear down the walls and unblock you.

No, I know we’re not going to be the same as before, but at least, there will be no more walls. After all, I just can’t shut you out of my life completely. Not after we’ve had such good friendship.

Just as I proceeded to unblock you, that’s when I saw everything. I saw you’re okay. You’re doing just fine.

But I still saw the darkness. I still saw the hurt.

I know it couldn’t just be me. I know a whole bunch of people have caused you that, but I won’t be lying – I know in some ways, I have also caused you pain. I am part of those people who have hurt you.

This is why I am so sorry.

I am so sorry for caging you into a kind of love that I thought would be enough to set you free. It was never my intention to box you, clip your wings and hurt you in the process of what I thought was “loving you.” Believe me, I regret it.

I regret it too much that it led me hate myself, and hurt you and I both in the end.

But my dear, I have healed now. I didn’t forget you, but I’m healed.

I’d be a hypocrite if I said I don’t love you anymore, because believe me, I still do. Unfortunately, time didn’t change anything about that.

But this time, let me love you this way: I would like you to be healed, too.

I am not going to cage you in a kind of love that you didn’t want in the first place. You deserve more than that.

I don’t believe you’re not enough. I don’t believe that it’s your fault you’re still feel sad from time to time. I don’t blame you for hurting before, and for hurting until now, if you still are.

I don’t believe you’re selfish. I don’t believe you’re a memory that has to be forgotten by people around you.

And let me do my part: I set you free from all the hatred you’ve felt because of me. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel like it’s your fault for not giving me, or us, a chance. I am sorry, if I made you feel that way.

I cancel out all the labels that were put on you, not just by me, but by everyone that has ever hurt you from the very beginning, even before me. All I wanted was for you to feel that you are worth the risk. You are worth loving and giving efforts to.

And it wasn’t my intention to drain you, make you feel less worthy because I was hurt. So I’m sorry.

My dear, heal now. Not for me. Not for them. But for you.

Heal now, because you know you have to.

And you deserve to.

I know it’s not easy, but at least try to.

Heal, and try to turn your darkness into shining light once more.

Heal, and try to forgive yourself for not being enough before.

Heal. Just try to.

The very first time I met you and looked into your eyes, I saw the brokenness that you’ve been trying to hide for several years now.

I know because I’ve been there. It takes one to know one.

I just wanted you to heal from the very beginning.

I hope you forgive me, because I have already forgiven you.

Now I release healing. And this is how I will choose to love you. I let you heal.

And I let you go.

I let you go so you can heal, too.


Unboxing the Unspoken is a mini-blog series that has 10 parts. Each part is an unspoken thought of the author towards a particular person who has made an impact on her 22 years of existence. Standby for the second part (a different thought, a different subject) next week.

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