To My Ignotus,

It has been nearly two years since we were last together. I hope you have forgotten me, yet I still remain frozen in the moment we first met. You were in a simple t-shirt, and I sat beside you unknowingly, not intending to speak. But now, look at me—I write on you, for you, and because of you.

Seasons have changed, my preferences have evolved, and even my emotions for others have shifted. But I cannot forget you. The time we spent together is etched into my soul, an unrelenting echo I can’t silence. Even after we parted, we crossed paths again. That pinched a string of poison in my heart. I often wonder—what happened wrong between us?

I want to tell you that I have enrolled in college. I had resolved to remain silent, distant, a loner. Yet, I failed again. I couldn’t change my fundamental nature. People still approach me; they still want to talk, to spend time with me. But compared to school, their numbers have dwindled, and this emptiness gnaws at me from within. I feel as though I have failed miserably.

Whenever I see a girl with eyes like yours, I falter. Yesterday, I came across someone whose eyes and lips bore a striking resemblance to yours, momentarily pulling me away from my chaos. I do not know what to do. I abandoned everything you once asked me to—everything, even you. Yet, the moments we shared refuse to fade. I have inked down every instance, every fight, every pain you gave to me.

Sometimes, I lose myself in dreams of you, even as I know they will pull back me for days and nights. Now, I find solace in my own self-destruction. I hope you are happy now—I served what you always demanded to me. The days have slipped away, the night’s glow has faded, yet my feelings for you never ended in me.

As I write this, I find myself at a loss for words that could do justice to my emotions. I know I will never find your replacement, nor do I desire one. Everyone trusts my choices and bet on your beauty, I only smile and say nothing. You are the most breathtaking person I have ever met. I still remember your voice, the way you used to say, “Stop it, Abhishek.” I obeyed. And I stopped living the way I did before you.

Every day, I cross your path, glancing at your house. The lights are always off—just like my dream of being with you. My heart trembles as I write this, my soul aching. I want you to read this letter. I am exhausted from defending you, from convincing everyone that you never hurt me, indeed you become the cause of everything in between me.

People tell me to forget you—but how can I? How does one erase the person who once brought them happiness? This world is quick to judge—my words, my actions, my existence. But can they not see my intentions?

You always knew—I am smart, but never cunning. I never sought gain at another’s loss. I am innocent; I help, I serve. You knew I was alone. So, why did you leave me? I was never supported. No one likes that I write. They want to destroy all my writings. But I want to survive in many minds.

My eyes are swollen from sleepless nights. I want sleep. Perhaps, one day, I will forget you—or perhaps, that day will mark my end. I long for someone who truly understands me, who sees that I am not always at fault. If I ever made you cry with my actions or my writings, I am sorry. You inspired me to write, and in doing so, you ignited a fight within me.

I end this letter with hope. With a beginning. I want the world to read me, to appreciate me. I know I’m defining myself to limit. And I will try not to do so. I also get hurt, but I have perfected the art of concealing my pain behind my fake smile. People call me a know-it-all, but all I ever tried to do was help, to prevent them from dwelling on the darkness that haunts me. I don’t want anyone to suffer as I do.

Every day, I wage silent wars within my mind just to survive. I look normal, but beneath the surface, I am fighting from things I don’t like to talk about. But I will win. And one day, I will meet you again—on the same bench, at the same time, with the same beginning… only this time, with a happy ending.