Naqui Ahmed
feb 28th, 7:09 pm est
dearest ella,
do you know what the biggest tragedy i’ve had in my life? it was that in me, hate was always stronger than love. hate for my traumatic childhood memories, hate for people who would steal you away from me, and hate for myself. so i write to you again, this time overwhelmed with the grief of not just losing you, but of losing life itself. the truth is, i never wanted to feel abandoned. but it was never your responsibility to keep me sane. hopefully, like i’ve hoped countless times before, this is the last time i write to you. writing letters to you was never easy.
you were so elegant. i liked myself far more when i was around you. i felt as though i could have achieved anything i wanted. i felt so powerful, so incandescent, so blissfully alive. but life has not been very kind since you left. it is easy to place all the blame on you and hate you out of spite or out of jealousy. oh, i am a jealous man. i could never stop the envy i feel towards the people who have you in their lives. the harder part is not hating myself for letting my mind be consumed by thoughts of you, your marvellous presence, your inimitable spirit.
i’ve always believed love is the willingness to do anything for the other person ; starve just to buy them bread, and not mind living in the streets for them. i’ve always thought that every minute away from someone you really love, would be a personal hell. so looking at my current self, i guess i really was in love with you after all. it’s been so long now that the version of you that exists in my head is probably not even close to the person you are in real life. and who do i hate for that other than myself? the grotesque nature of having an obsession like this is not forgiving.
i am far too broken now. if I could ever find joy in anything in this world again, that is when i would stop thinking about you. i know there is no way i can come out of this unharmed. i felt so much more human back then. but i yearn for you. i will never stop longing for you. is that even a choice that i have? does it matter? you are worlds away, and i will be forgotten.
naqui.
ps : i wrote this letter while listening to rose bay by the great Ludovico Einaudi. i’ve cried so much already that crying feels irrelevant to me now. but listening to this piece while typing these ever so corny, ever so cringey, ever so slightly human words made me tear up again.