Letters. As I realise that lately I tend to organise my thoughts and feelings better through words, instead of speaking to the person face to face, though my language still sucks. (But I still hold on to the 'belief' that photography is my paramount and favourite method of expression. The colours, the lightings!) At least it gives me space and time to think properly before I pen down each word, to give each thought a proper judgement before 'voicing' it out so as to not hurt others as much, especially when those words were meant to be confrontational. Constructive confrontations. I've written many letters before, but many were unsent, just because I lack the courage to do the last step - click Send. What a coward.
Back to the trail of procrastinating from writing the official letters and doing other presumably more important stuffs, I went through the unsent letters in my mail instead. Memories from near-past swarmed my mind, the good and the bad ones, then there came pangs of remorse. Those words which once were flowing directly, true from my heart seem so distant now. I don't feel like the writer of those letters any more. I felt so embarrassed and stupid for writing those words that I feel relieve for not sending those letters. But who knows what those letters might have brought? The pure honesty? They could, in some serendipitous way, heal some relationships that were broken. But then again, I didn't send them.
Perhaps, it's of the character and personality change God has blessed me with throughout this year. It's not a drastic, 180 degree change like the one I've been through when I first left home to college. This time, it is more subtle. It may be due to the stress, the bamboozles I've been whirled in for the past year or maybe I've been reading so much and talking so much lesser for the past 8 months compared to the college days. Lately, my buddies have commented that I am, strangely, radiating a very different aura: A much more quiet person who seems to have something in mind all the time.
It's true that I am always thinking of something else while simultaneously carrying on the topic we are talking about most of the time. (I believe most people do that too) My mind just has that wondrous propensity to wander. Then I'll pen it down when I get back home, having the urge, the illusion that I have the guts to send it out, solve the problem once and for all, but resolved to coddling myself by saving those drafts in the inbox, evading all those 'soon-to-be-uprising' awkwardness and anger all together - the aftermaths of
unnecessary necessary confrontations.