نامه دوم(که هرگز نخواهی خواند)

I was always too drowned in the sky.

too far from everything that had a name, too close to nothingness.

The blue above wasn’t just air to me; it was an endless ocean waiting to swallow me whole.

Silence was my companion, whispering promises of vanishing,

of becoming one with the weightless dark.

I used to think falling was freedom.

I used to think gravity was a curse.

My feet never belonged to the ground.

They trembled at the touch of soil,

yearning to drift, to escape the heavy pull that kept me here.

The earth felt foreign, too alive, too loud,

a beating heart I couldn’t bear to echo.

So I dreamt instead of dissolving,

of surrendering myself to the sky’s cold mouth.

I wanted to be consumed by something infinite.

And then... it was you.

You appeared like a phantom stitched out of dawn and dust.

Your eyes carried the weight of storms,

your voice, gentle, but it burned through the silence like candlelight through fog.

You reached out, so effortlessly,

as if you had always known where I would fall.

You held my hand.

And suddenly, everything I believed about falling changed.

Because for the first time, I didn’t want to disappear.

I didn’t want to belong to the sky anymore.

You didn’t pull me down, you anchored me.

Your voice was softer than gravity, but stronger too.

You said, “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall.”

And I didn’t.

I felt the world breathe beneath me again.

the earth that once rejected me now kissed the soles of my feet,

and I wondered, was it the ground, or was it you?

Maybe it was your lips hidden in the wind,

your warmth threading through the air,

your pulse that replaced the weight of gravity itself.

Because now, when I walk, the world feels different.

It no longer drags me down, it holds me close,

like a creature afraid to lose what it revived.

Every step I take feels like a quiet confession from the universe:

You are meant to stay.

But sometimes, the sky still calls me,

its hollow voice echoing through my bones,

sweet as sin, cruel as longing.

It tempts me with the promise of weightlessness,

of peace dressed in oblivion.

And I almost answer.

Until I remember your hand,

warm and human and real,

pulling me back from the edge of that pale, endless hunger.

You made the sky look less lonely.

You made falling look like flying.

You painted halos around my shadows and turned my ruin into prayer.

And maybe I am still a slave,

but this time, to something holy.

To you.

If gravity is what keeps the stars from drifting apart,

then you are the reason I haven’t vanished into the blue.

You are my gravity,

my weight, my warmth, my home.

And every time the wind calls me to disappear again,

I hear your voice echo through the silence,

a promise, a spell, a soft curse of love:

Stay.

And I do.

Even when the night opens its mouth to swallow me,

I stay.

because your name has become the ground beneath my feet,

and I can’t remember the last time I truly wanted to fly.