Press enter or click to view image in full size Photo by Andrii Solok 🇺🇦 on Unsplash A few months ago, I was cleaning my old study desk. You know that last drawer where you throw random stuff and forget about it? Yeah, that one. Between an old notebook and a yellow envelope, I found a letter. It was mine. No date. No name outside. Just folded once and kept away like it wasn’t meant to be seen again. But the moment I held it, I remembered everything. It was late October. Slightly cold. One of those evenings where your mind just won’t stay quiet. I had gone out for a walk that day. Not for fresh air… just to avoid going back home too soon. That was the day I decided not to call. Not because I didn’t care, but because I had already said everything I could. And somehow, it still felt like nothing was heard. So instead, I wrote a letter. Nothing fancy. No deep words. No perfect sentences. Just… honest.…