The letters he never sent

Noah sat at the edge of Elijah’s bed — or what used to be his. The room was preserved like a photograph: books still stacked on the windowsill, an old denim jacket slung over the chair, a Polaroid of two boys taped to the mirror — one with dark curls, one with freckles, both grinning with their eyes closed.

His throat tightened.

Mrs. Reed had let him in without asking questions. Just pointed him upstairs and said, “You should see it before I pack it away.”

The house was quiet now, except for the tick of a wall clock and the sound of grief stretching itself across the floorboards.

Noah stood and walked to the desk. The wood was worn, but clean. Neat. Elijah had always been neat, even when everything around him was falling apart. He opened the drawer slowly, almost afraid of what he might find.

What he found was a bundle of *letters*, bound with twine, edges frayed.

Each envelope was addressed to *Noah Hale*. None were mailed.

His fingers trembled as he untied the twine. He opened the top letter.

*June 14, 2015*

*"I saw a boy today who had your walk. I followed him for three blocks before realizing he wasn’t you. I think I scared him. I miss you, and it’s not getting easier."*Noah folded it shut. He reached for the next.

*September 9, 2016*

*"Mom says you probably forgot. But I don’t believe her. I think you’re still out there, still trying to become someone strong enough to come back."*

Another.

*April 3, 2018*

*"I kissed someone last week. It didn’t feel like anything. Not like you."*

Noah read them all — *years of unsent words*, grief in ink, hope stitched into every line. Elijah hadn’t just waited — he had *lived inside the waiting*, one letter at a time.

By the last one, dated just months before his death, Noah was in tears.

*January 2, 2025*

*"I think I’m getting tired, Noah. But if you ever come back, I left the window unlocked. Just in case."*

The window was still unlocked.

Noah stood there in the fading light, a man ten years too late, holding the pieces of a love that had never been allowed to breathe.

He sank to the floor and whispered to the room that still smelled like Elijah, “I’m here now.”

But the silence didn’t answer.

Noah couldn't do anything except to regret why he hadn't come back earlier.

Pang of sadness pierced through his heart like a sharp sword through the flesh.

His throat tighten as he felt like screaming and letting out his anger.

He blamed it all on himself saying that if he was there earlier Elijah wouldn't have died.

He felt like everything happened because of him .Had I not confessed to Elijah that day this couldn't have happened, he wouldn't have died,he thought to himself as tears swelled up in his eyes and he couldn't control them any longer.

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