Sometimes I scroll through my phone and see conversations that never took off. I had drafted the words but left them sitting in the message box, waiting for a courage that never came to send them. I start typing, stop halfway, delete, rewrite, and then, just like that, I let the message remain unsent.
It’s actually strange how heavy silence can feel when it’s tied to words you never allowed to live. A “hello” that might have rekindled something, an apology that could have mended a fracture, a confession that could have lightened your chest. But instead, the words stay hidden, tucked inside a phone, and even deeper inside your heart.
I know this feeling all too well.
My best friend and I had a falling out a while ago. Blanketed with pride, I told myself that I wasn’t in the wrong, so I refused to send her a message. Yet, so many times, I found myself opening our chat, typing something, deleting it, starting again and then giving up. Whenever this happened, I encouraged myself by saying “if she wants to talk, she’ll talk.” But today, I found out from someone else that she’s been in and out of the hospital. My chest tightened and I felt guilt wash over me in a way I can’t explain. Whatever had happened between us could have been easily resolved with an “I’m sorry.” And now, I don’t know if I’ll ever get that chance.
Well, I now feel the danger of unsent messages. They pile up like little ghosts of conversations that could have been. Some haunt us, some fade, but all of them carry a certain weight.
I guess the real lesson here is that sending or not sending, both come with consequences. One leaves you exposed, the other leaves you wondering “what if.” Neither is easy, but perhaps choosing expression over silence is the lighter burden to carry. Because even if the response isn’t what we hope, at least we’ve freed the words and I wished I freed mine, leaving her to judge if she wanted to accept them or not.
That said, I’ve learned that those unsent messages aren’t just about the texts, they're about the parts of ourselves we hide. The feelings we swallow, the truths we delay, the kindness we withhold. And maybe, just maybe, letting those words out, even shakily, could make the difference someone else, or even we ourselves, are waiting for.
