Dear Oliver,
I remember learning how to drive back then. It wasn't easy—it took countless lessons to finally understand how to maneuver a car, steady my hands on the wheel, and feel the rhythm of the road. But after all that effort, I spent years as just a passenger, letting someone else take control. You were the one behind the wheel, and I grew comfortable there, watching the world go by, trusting you to guide us forward. Now, though, I find myself back in the driver's seat, and everything feels strange. The roads seem unfamiliar, and my grip on the wheel is unsure, like I've forgotten everything I once learned.
I dreamt about it last night—me driving, the wheel in my hands, yet feeling lost, as if something vital was missing. It's strange how much I longed for the ease of the passenger seat again, for the steadiness of someone else beside me, guiding me, helping me feel like I belonged there. Now, it's just me and the open road, and every turn feels heavier than it should. Maybe I just need time to adjust, to find that same sense of balance I used to have. But there's no denying it: driving isn't the same when it's just me behind the wheel.
With love,
Mori
YOU ARE READING
the Sum of it all
PoetryIt's a collection of chaos, a mess of emotions spilled onto pages that were never meant to be read. The letters I could never send, each one holding pieces of a heart too afraid to lay itself bare. The love I could have given, if only I'd been brave...
