The Last Letter

Dear Nate,

You said that I haven’t been the same girl who wrote you that poem since I returned from Bali. You were right. She’d gotten a little lost whilst waiting for a safe space to come home to. But she never found it again with you apart from that one week in October where everything felt right.

It was ten days after we’d made up, one week after I’d learned about your caffeine overdose, three days after we’d gotten tipsy on sangrias, and two days after you were my proxy for beer pong.

That was when I wrote you this poem:

“I promise I won’t run from your scars.
Instead, I will hold gently the warmth of your memories in the palms of my hands;
All of your stories, the sound of your laugh, bigger than life itself;
And the endless barrage of emotions that escape your composure,
As I long to take away the pain.

I will place these carefully in a box crafted in your name;
Send them to the address that no one has ever known;
That elusive inner world so rich with life.
So that when you untwirl that ribbon,
You will relearn yourself again for the first time through these eyes.

And when you do, please know that,
I see you in all your cracked perfection.

So please stop pushing me away, because I’m not going anywhere.
Whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun;
Or the nights you collapse into my lap;
Your body broken into a thousand questions,
You are the most exquisite thing I have ever come across.”

Seventeen days later, you confided in me about your disorganised attachment style and that was when I was about to tell you that you had a home in me, if you wanted it. Your story broke my heart, and I didn’t want you to ever have to feel alone again. That day, I thought about how hard the journey ahead might be for us and ultimately, I decided that this was still worth investing in. We seemed to be in alignment when I left your place and you’d said some beautiful things about making space in your life for me. It’s amazing how quickly things can change huh? I think we can forgive ourselves and each other for hoping. Ultimately, it just wasn’t meant to be.

This is being delivered under different circumstances to what I had originally intended but my writing was always meant to be shared with the person it was about. I’m sorry it had to end this way and that we never got the chance to really know each other organically. Maybe ‘backwards’ wasn’t so great after all.

But for what it’s worth: Hello, my name is Estee. I love travelling, spontaneous weekend adventures and trying new things. I get cabin fever if I’m inside for too long and I value personal relationships above all else, because I think connections make life meaningful. I like to take risks and I often speak my truth through poetry cause that’s where I find wonder and inspiration. It was lovely to meet you.

You have taught me some invaluable lessons over the past few months and for that, I am truly grateful. I promise this will be the last time you hear from me and if it’s selfish of me to have sent you this, I hope you can forgive me.

This is how I give myself permission to move on.

– Es