Transparent letter to my past lover

This piece is my interpretation of what it feels like to have so many unsaid words that they could fill an entire journal. Eventually the words themselves start to lose their meaning, their weight, their warmth — yet, still the cycle of overthinking begins again and again and again. Thoughts of loss circle the mind and stain the page the way resin cures across the page and canvas.

The roses represent the effort of offering myself the love I’ve been yearning for. Beneath the resin is a tamarin-and-alcohol sun print of chains, now almost completely hidden. That disappearance is intentional. It symbolizes my quiet desire to be “chained down” in a romantic, loving, almost animated partnership — a bond that feels chosen, safe, and mutual. 

Being someone living with bpd, the fear of abandonment is far greater than my personal desire for and self perseverance: including personal space.

The flower drawn in the center is my emotional commitment to let myself cry, to water myself knowing that I’ll grow.

This piece also contains a real excerpt from a letter I once wrote to a past lover in my diary — a reminder of the words that shaped me, even when they could no longer be spoken aloud.