As I mentioned before, I adore writing letters.
But I never said the other main reason why I like writing them so much. I’m not the most eloquent person when it comes to speaking. I get extremely high anxiety when the subject is something personal and I forget the reason I’m speaking in the first place. That’s one of the main reasons I have this blog. My words seem to have more impact when they’re written.
Lately I haven’t been able to sleep because all of the feelings that I buried a long time ago have been resurfacing. I buried my emotions knowing that they would come back to plague me again, but at the time I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to deal with them. Now that it’s all coming back to me I really regret not having the courage to get some kind of closure.
I can’t deny that I was a coward back then. I ran away from anything and everything that terrified me even a little. I rarely ever swallowed my fears and faced the consequences. I was sick back then too so I guess I can’t be too hard on myself.
Now, the only way to get closure about this, or anything else, is to confront the source.
This is where writing letters comes in handy for me. I still don’t have enough courage to confront a person directly, so I’ll just have to do it indirectly. Since I’m addressing the actual person, it’s almost like I’m holding the conversation. I’ve done this before, getting closure from writing a single letter, but never have I done it for this particular topic.
However, at the same time I’m still running away. I’ll write the letter, but who knows if I’ll send it? I have stacks of unread letters stored away somewhere because I got as far as putting them in an envelope. I never wrote an address nor did I ever place a stamp on it. It didn’t feel right at the time; sending a letter that opens up old wounds for another person. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll be a little selfish this time.
I think I deserve it.