The Letter I Never Sent

Dear You,\n\nI started writing this letter a thousand times. In my head, on napkins, in notes on my phone that I deleted before I finished. But I'm writing it now, for real, because I need you to know.\n\nI remember the night we stayed up until 4 AM talking about the constellations. You pointed out Orion's Belt and told me that in ancient Egypt, the pyramids were aligned to mirror the stars in Orion. I pretended to be fascinated by the astronomy, but really, I was just fascinated by you.\n\nI remember the time we got lost driving home from that terrible concert. We took a wrong turn and ended up on a road that wound through hills we'd never seen before. The GPS kept recalculating, and you kept laughing, and I thought: I could get lost with you forever.\n\nI remember the last time I saw you. We were in your kitchen, and you were making tea, and I wanted to tell you that I loved you. But the words felt too big, too heavy, too dangerous. So instead I said, "Take care of yourself." And you said, "You too." And then I left.\n\nThat was six years ago.\n\nI'm writing this because I heard you got married. And I'm happy for you, truly. But I need to finally say the words I couldn't say that day in your kitchen. I loved you. I love you still, in a way that doesn't go away.\n\nI never sent the letter. But I'm glad I wrote it.