x
I sat with the old, yellowed envelope in my hand — untouched for years.
My fingers trembled, not because of the cold, but because of the memory it held.
57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkIZuLVCBRs
I had written that letter to my father the night I left home — a young boy, angry, misunderstood, and broken. I never posted it.
57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZGM3nvRRYq
Now, standing at his grave, I read it aloud.
"I hated you for not understanding me. But I never thanked you for the silent sacrifices. I saw your tired eyes every night. I heard your voice choke every time you told me to be strong."
57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡME4w0XCa0W
Tears blurred the ink.
"I wanted to become better — not to prove you wrong, but to prove you right."
57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHaFrmYNDsu
The wind whispered through the trees as if he was listening.
And for the first time in years, my heart felt a little less heavy.
57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt4vU0WaRwt
Some letters don’t need to be sent. They just need to be read — even if only by the soul they were meant for.
57Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbScrr8y2C8
