A letter from March 7th, 2024

Dear FutureMe,
hey. how are things now? I hope you're well. do you still keep a journal?I'm writing this cause there are things that I can't write in mine.
I saw his mom last Feb. 29 walking down the road somewhere. I don't usually dream of A. I mean not ever, but I did last night. In the grander scheme of things, I don't think it means anything. just my brain processing a loss. right?I dreamt about meeting him again, I still don't know what clever thing to say and still don't know what to do with myself. we got in his car, going somewhere I don't know. somehow it felt like it's gonna be the last. maybe because I didn't get to have that closure: knowing for sure that it's going to be the last. I hate this, the feeling of longing. Longing for something that's never mine. did he ever like me? see me for me and loved me anyway. did he ever?I'd want to have a closure, maybe not? I just want to get in his head and riffle through everything and find the exact moment that he decided I'm not good enough for more than just *** and trying for anything more than that isn't worth it. I hate that I even think of him after all these years. we're strangers to each other now. well, I'd like to say I knew him in a way others don't; not that he knew me, he never even tried. to be loved is to be known, right? he was such an *******, pure ******* poison and I keep missing him. I hope this is the last.

tell me you made a good life for yourself. you deserve to be loved for more than what you can offer. I hope you're happy now.

please stop missing the wrong people, that's so cringe