I wrote you this letter

I wrote you this letter, because there was so much that was left unsaid on my side of the spectrum.

I thought about sending it to you more than once. Not when I was having a sad day, but mostly when I was having one of those really horrible angry days.

But no, never mind. I thought about sending it on sad days too, on days when I walked through the cold campus in this zombie-like state of half existence, when my insensate body refused to feel the coldness of a -10º day.

I thought about sending you this letter when not being able to eat made me so angry. So enraged about the fact that you could belittle me so much, that your words could cause me to starve myself.

But then, a car would pass, or a bird would fly by, and I realized how quickly things could change. How hastily something beautiful like a life could end with a car crash. How, in a second, a few words could just crush someone so intensely.

The letter was a product of my anger, but it was meant for my eyes only, because despite my raging feelings and angry thoughts, I simply could not bring myself to destroy you the way that you destroyed me.

At times I fathomed how satisfying it might have been make you cry, to make you feel even half of what I felt that day. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself about it, I knew that reciprocating just wouldn’t make me happy.

You probably feel great about how easy it was for you to completely shatter me. And it wouldn’t surprise me if it satisfied and empowered you. Yet I could not find happiness in doing something that horrible to another human being, no matter how much they deserved it. Because nobody deserves to be treated in the way you treated me.

I’ll never send you that letter. But I’m not throwing it away either. Not because I’m spiteful, or even because I hold a grudge against you.

I’m just keeping it to remind myself, how quickly, how easily everything can change. How little it takes for a car crash to just shatter someone completely.