The unspoken

CARTE BLANCHE #25

The break up’s longing. The need of saying. Of telling what has been lived. Felt. It doesn’t exist in the relationship. Or so differently. Or so briefly. The heart feels ready to explode every minute. So you kiss. So you embrace. And a few words sometimes fall.

Memories. Sensations. Feelings. Are being lived. There is nothing to say. To write maybe. Off-beat. In between two reunions. To fill the gap.

At that moment, I already write love more than I speak it.

In the now. My words are too small. My feelings are too big. They can’t utterly reflect. I sometimes cry instead of speaking. So beautiful. So sweet. It is. I often kiss. I often embrace. Instead of thinking.

But when it breaks. There is only space for thoughts. For remembrance. In order to keep the sensations’ ghost. There is everything to say. What we have been through. And the urgent need to share. Probably in great despair for revival.

But also a bit like a gift. Like a tribute to what has been felt and is gone.

There are layers of letters on my desk. There are piles of texts on my phone. So many words for the missing one. I don’t send any. I sworn.

I write love more than I live it.

Justine T. Annezo – June, 25th 2026 – GTM+2