My Dear Stranger, I don’t know where you are now, or which world you’re standing in as you read this—if you are reading this at all. But I hope, quietly and sincerely, that you are safe. My Dear Stranger, When I saw you that day, nothing made sense—yet everything did. Your eyes spoke a language I had never learned, yet somehow understood. They carried doubt, confusion, uncertainty—and beneath all of it, a pain so deep it had learned how to stay silent. Your heart didn’t screa

My Dear Stranger, Without any warning, I saw the other side of life. It felt like falling—not down, but through. Through something thin and unseen. A crack between two worlds. Our worlds. One moment I was here, the next I was standing in a place I didn’t understand. A world that felt cold and different. Out of place. A world that felt older than time. A world that carried secrets—dark ones, buried deep, as if they had been hidden for thousands of years. And somehow, you were

My Dear Stranger, Do you ever feel like you don’t belong in this world? Well, I do. I often feel like I don’t fit anywhere— like I’m standing slightly out of frame, present, yet misplaced. nor like I’m always a step behind, or standing slightly to the side of where life is happening. Lost. Lonely. And yet…I want to belong. I want to feel like I belong—somewhere, even once. I want to know what it feels like to walk into a room without shrinking, to exist without constantly ad

My Dear Stranger I feel as if I have spent my life as a watcher—quiet and unseen, sensing and observing everything from a secret place hidden behind the shadows. From where I stood; In silence, I learned the language of emotions: disappointment, conflict, fear, betrayal, injustice, ignorance, misery. I have carried them all without ever raising my voice. My Dear Stranger, I believe nothing happens without reason. Every step we take, every word we speak— whether we are aware o

(A Letter Under the Moonlight)  My Dear Stranger, How have you been? It’s been a while since my last letter. Do you know something? Sometimes this feeling of missing you crashes over me — too deep to contain. It sweeps me into a place I’ve never known before; a strange, tender world, painted in light, flowers, and butterflies. My Dear Stranger, Are you happy now? Truly happy —with your new life, with who you’ve become, with the person you see in the mirror today? Have you ev

My Dear Stranger, I don’t know how to explain this feeling. I don’t even understand it myself. All I know is—I feel you. This letter may never reach you. Perhaps not in this lifetime. Still, it insists on being written. My Dear Stranger, Who are you, really? You don’t know my name. Just as I don’t know yours. We are two unknowns, passing through the same quiet orbit. And yet—somewhere in the past, I believe I saw you. Years ago. Only for a second. Long enough for you to steal

My Dear Stranger, How are you ? This letter is for you. For the soul I’ve met that night—or perhaps only dreamed of. For the voices that linger in my memory. I write from the in-between— between what is felt and what is spoken, between what I show and what I hide. These are the words I never said, the stories I kept folded inside the corners of my heart, the fragments that still glow in the dark when no one’s looking. Each word you’ll find here is a piece of my truth— a confe