#the unsent project
If you’re a dramatic (gay) arts person and the pandemic has ruined your potential for cinematic angst, consider doing what I’ve been doing since I was 16 and edgy and looking at The Unsent Project.
note to self: keep your unsent messages unsent.
i. I graduate tomorrow. You were supposed to be part of that. The night you broke up with me, I wanted to ask you on a date so we could celebrate together. You always told me how proud you were of me. I remember how soft your voice was and how perfectly it wrapped around my name.
ii. Today, instragram asked me if I wanted to unfollow you because I don’t interact with your account anymore. I cried in the bathroom at work because I realized that it’s been a month since we’ve last spoken. It’s been a month since I felt right.
iii. They announced a sequel to your favorite movie – the one you showed me months ago. I still remember the excitement in your voice while you talked about all your favorite parts. You kept apologizing for talking, but what you didn’t understand is that I never wanted you to stop talking. I would give anything to hear your voice again.
iv. Part of me, no matter how hard I try to get rid of it, thinks you could still come back. Maybe we weren’t ready, or maybe it wasn’t our time; maybe there’s a chance that one day, we can love each other in the way we were too scared to.
v. I hope you never regret me. I hope that I gave you just enough of myself that you cherish my memory. I hope you’re able to think about me and smile. More importantly, though. I hope that one day, I can think of you and smile; I hope that your memory doesn’t always shatter my heart, and I am not stuck in this loop of reliving the moment your eyes grew cold over and over again. I hope one day, the world feels right, even if you’re not with me.
messages i almost sent at 2 a.m. (2/?) by (ds)
On the good days, missing you is a warm breeze. I close my eyes and bask in the comfort of what once was, what could have been. I think of your eyes and the way they softened when you spoke to me. I think of your voice and the way it wrapped itself around my name so perfectly. On the good days, missing you is warmth and nostalgia and comfort. On the good days, I can miss you without feeling like my world is crashing.
On the bad days, missing you is drowning. My lungs burn as I gasp for air but they fill with water. I replay every moment in my head over and over again. The moment I saw you give up on us — give up on me. The moment you told me I was wonderful in the same breath you shattered me. The moment you looked at me and your eyes told me everything you never did - the moment your eyes stopped being happy to see me. I am stuck in this constant loop of reliving the moment before the storm, the moment before you left me shattered on the pavement. On the bad days, I remember that you’re probably better off — happier — without me. I am not someone people miss; I am not someone people regret walking away from.
i wonder if you ever think of me - unsent messages 2.0 (1/?) by (ds)
I have to let you go. Let you go and be happy. I will sit back. I will let you grow. I can only hope that you come back to me. But if you don’t. If you don’t come back, I hope you know how much I loved you. Love you. Still. Always. You were my person. You will always be my person. Even if I can’t be yours. Take care, my love.
The moon is in cancer and we’re feeling emotional tonight
