Dear Clark,
I dreamt of you again last night. This time, the memory slipped away too quickly. All I could remember was that we were eating together. I don't know what food it was, I don't know where we were sitting, but I know it was you across from me. And that memory, even if incomplete, left me with a feeling that lingered when I woke up: the comfort of being with you, sharing something so ordinary yet so meaningful.
I think what I miss the most are not the grand gestures or the big moments. What I miss most are the simple things. Sitting together while eating, laughing over fries, or just being quiet while chewing but knowing that the silence wasn't empty because you were there. That's what last night's dream reminded me of: the ordinary magic of just being with you.
Even when we were apart, I cherished our little "meal dates" over video calls. Sometimes we didn't even talk much while eating, but it felt like I was there with you. That's the kind of intimacy I treasure, the warmth of normal moments. Maybe that's why this dream feels so tender to me. It's as if my heart wants to keep those memories alive.
Clark, I know you may never read this. I know your life has moved in a direction away from me. But I still want to say this: those little moments with you are what I carry most dearly. Not the fights, not the pain, not the misunderstandings, but the laughter, the quietness, the companionship. Those are the memories that stay with me, the ones that still make me smile even when my heart aches.
I also know that I cannot live in those memories forever. I am slowly learning to move forward, to grieve in my own way, and to prepare myself to let go. I've made a decision that after your birthday, I will stop writing letters to you. I will still write journals, but those will be for me: to reclaim myself, to love myself again, to build my own life without leaning on the past. But until then, I still want to give myself the space to write to you, because this is my way of loving and releasing at the same time.
This letter, like the dream, is about simplicity. About how love lives in the everyday. And I want to thank you, even if you never see this, for giving me memories of love that felt like home. One day, when I return everything I've written to you, it will not be about whether you read them or not. It will be my last act of love, my closure. Because my love was real, and it deserves to be expressed. But after that, I will walk away and carry myself forward, knowing I gave my heart fully.
I hope, wherever you are right now, you're eating well, smiling, and finding comfort in your own everyday moments. Maybe you don't think of me anymore, or maybe sometimes you do, I'll never know. But know this: you were my home in the ordinary, and for that, I will always be grateful.
Always,
Alyssa (Phineas, Arlo, Fifi, and Mang)
Last updated on:2025-08-31T22:39:02+05:30
Comments (2)
i used to miss those quiet meals too, just sitting there eating together like it was the safest place. it makes sense your heart grabs onto those little things.
dreams pissed me off. i’d wake up thinking we were still good, then i’d roll over and remember he was gone. i hated that my brain kept serving me dinner dates that didn’t exist anymore.