The letter I never wrote you.
December 9th, 21:52. I've been thinking about you, specially in the last days. It's been more than a year since we broke up and around six months that we don't exchange any word. I admit I deleted all of our conversations few months back, first on Element and then Whatsapp, but don't think it was because I was mad at you or any other intricate reason. I did it because every time I searched for something the engine naturally suggested me a message in our conversations. Of course, after so many years of daily talking there was a message between us that would use any of the searched words, so I deleted our conversations just not to be reminded of you at every moment.
I also want to tell you that I downloaded all the photos from Google and stored them in a hard drive. I didn't open them all, just a few random ones and realized there are so many photos of you (us): in Ensenada, Oslo, Liège, Strasbourg, Genoa and Paris. I didn't delete any, I'll keep them all and I think I'll very rarely see them in the future, perhaps only when, for nostalgia, I open them to see photos from 2016 or 2020. Also, when I moved back to Mexico I brought a bag with all memories that meant anything to me: I have letters you wrote, mazes we solved, photos we took and books we read. Since I got home I put them in a drawer and as I've needed anything from there I sometimes see them sitting at the bottom. I don't read them nor open them anymore, I just keep them to move them later to a place where I won't see them.
You might want to know that Salah, our plush, is now in a drawer in the closet. He's laying upside down and because I sometimes need something from there I see him, but as I put things back in there he's going deeper and I guess at some point there will be things totally covering him. Last time I talked to him was few months ago: I apologized to him for what had happened, kissed him on the forehead and let him where he is now. I hope you did the same to KitKat; I hope she's buried in a drawer and not reminding you of me. By the way, Krtek and the wooden duck, the bunny and the snowman are all on my desk.
M, I realized I'll never forget about you because I welcomed you everywhere in my life. My computer, my hard drives, my home town, my home and my hobbies. I still find random folders in my phone and laptop that somehow have something of yours: a photo, an audio, a text or a drawing. I remember at the beginning of our breakup I actively tried to avoid all those random files because they were hurtful, but now if I find one I sometimes open them just out of curiosity. Sometimes I can even remember the moments: a day in bed in Liège or Genoa or a day outside in Paris. I've seen time lapses where I make coffee and wake you up and listened to songs you invented. No, no, no, I don't think about you as much, but the photos refresh my bad memory and make me think of all those moments we lived.
It might sound like I'm a bit sad now that I'm writing but I think it's just the nostalgia of the season. Of course I miss you: you were warmth, kindness, calmness, happiness and craziness. You were home. But, happily, I have now understood that even though you were all those things and more, that was it: you were but you are not anymore. I am still thankful for everything.
M, I wrote you this just because I owed it to you. Because I know you loved when I wrote you letters. And yes, I'm sorry for not writing more often, and I am very sorry because even though I wrote this letter you'll never read it. In fact, I'll always say I never wrote it to you.
December 9th 23:25.
[A]
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