Hi there, AD.

Reaching out feels wrong, so instead I’m writing everything here, everything I’ve been holding in, everything I never had the courage or the right to say out loud. There’s no one I can truly share this with. You wouldn’t know I’ve been writing for you unless I gave you a hint, but if you ever do stumble upon this… then hi. This is me, speaking quietly, from a distance.

I promised you I wouldn’t bother you again, and I’m trying my best to keep that promise. So this is the only place I allow myself to say these things, to let them exist without reaching you.

This week has been hell. Every day at the office drained me a little more, and everyone there made me so angry, so small, so tired. You know how I am. I never know how to express anger, especially not to people who don’t care to listen. So I swallowed everything. I carried it with me until Friday, until my body couldn’t hold it anymore. When I came home, I finally broke. I cried until I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I cried again. It hurt so much, not just what they did, but how alone I felt while enduring it.

I’ve been keeping myself constantly busy so I won’t bother you. I fill my days, my mind, my time anything to stop myself from reaching out. But still, I always find myself opening Telegram, checking your last seen on WhatsApp, wondering if you’re okay, wondering if there’s even a small chance you’d want to talk. Every time, I stop myself. I remember that message you sent, telling me I was the worst and it feels like a wall I’m not allowed to cross. That’s how I remind myself to stay silent, no matter how badly I want to speak.

I dyed my hair black during a mental breakdown. It wasn’t planned. At 1:30 p.m. on Saturday (today), I suddenly decided to do it, as if changing something on the outside could quiet the chaos inside me. I don’t even know if it was the right decision. At that moment, I wanted so badly to text you, to ask if dark hair would suit me. Such a small, silly question, the kind I used to ask without fear. But I stopped myself. I didn’t want to seem desperate. I didn’t want to look like someone still reaching for attention she no longer deserves.

I replied to your status while I was on my way to the salon. I remembered our drinks. Mine was always da hong pao. You used to like it too, before you slowly started preferring lapsang instead. Everything normal, just as you like it, no less sugar, no changes. I remember these details without trying. They live in me. I replied not to bother you, but because reminding you of what you like felt like the last gentle thing I could offer. The least I could do with everything I still remember about you.

I still miss going to Three Taste. Some places don’t stop hurting just because time passes. But I’m glad you still go there. I wonder sometimes if you still wear the bracelet I gave you, though I already know the answer. It’s okay. I know you hated me. I know you probably wanted to throw everything away, to erase every trace of me.

The truth is, I’m not okay. I haven’t been for a while. I’m trying to be strong in the quiet, trying to survive without letting it show. I hope everything is going well for you. I truly do. As for me, I’m not doing great but I’ll manage. I always do.

I won’t disturb you again. Still, I hope you pass your exam this time. My prayers will always be with you, even from afar, even in silence.

-AMS