The Bolter
@lettersineversent.bsky.social
These are letters I never sent. Writing them helped me hold on; sharing them is how I’ve learned to let go. Speaking the unsaid has been my way of healing.
He was my best friend and that was the worst part.
July 18, 2025 at 4:44 AM
He was my best friend and that was the worst part.
You’ve erased your existence from the places I once found traces of you.
And yet, your absence has never been quiet.
You’ve always left me with a lingering solitude — one only your silence knows how to shape.
And yet, your absence has never been quiet.
You’ve always left me with a lingering solitude — one only your silence knows how to shape.
July 17, 2025 at 8:04 PM
You’ve erased your existence from the places I once found traces of you.
And yet, your absence has never been quiet.
You’ve always left me with a lingering solitude — one only your silence knows how to shape.
And yet, your absence has never been quiet.
You’ve always left me with a lingering solitude — one only your silence knows how to shape.
I hate to admit it, but I think about you often.
It’s gotten to the point where I catch myself imagining conversations with you that never get to happen.
It’s gotten to the point where I catch myself imagining conversations with you that never get to happen.
July 17, 2025 at 6:01 AM
I hate to admit it, but I think about you often.
It’s gotten to the point where I catch myself imagining conversations with you that never get to happen.
It’s gotten to the point where I catch myself imagining conversations with you that never get to happen.