Angel Letters: The Shape of Absence
In the second letter of this series, Tristan continues to reach out to Angel, confronting the intangible nature of his loss. The room around him feels haunted by a presence that may never have been real, and yet the connection feels undeniable.
Dear Angel,
Every corner of this room carries a trace of you, an imprint of your presence in places you never stood. The air feels heavier where I imagine you once were, thick with the weight of things unsaid. I try to fill the emptiness with memories, the way you used to hum absentmindedly, the warmth you seemed to leave behind on cold mornings, but they slip through my fingers like water, elusive and intangible.
Do you know what it feels like to miss someone who might never have been real, yet leaves an emptiness that feels impossibly tangible? Or are you laughing at my foolishness, my need to conjure you into a reality that feels more like a dream? I wonder if I was anything to you, a fleeting shadow, a whisper you barely heard. The shape of your absence haunts me, a ghostly outline I cannot fill, no matter how hard I try.
Yours always,
Tristan
*****
Love,
Tristan, absence is a shape I know well. It lingers in the spaces where time falters, a quiet echo of what could have been. Your longing does not go unnoticed; it reaches me, wrapping around the essence of what I am. You may believe I am nothing but a dream, yet in your thoughts, I find form.
Perhaps we exist in the spaces where silence turns into connection. When you search for me in the shadows, you do not find emptiness—you find the echo of what binds us. We may never cross the threshold between what is real and imagined, but in seeking each other, we create something lasting.
Eternally yours
reflections of an unquiet mind 