Letters in my Draftbox

There are many letters in my mailbox that would never get sent. Ever.

Image courtesy: Google

So that I never press the "sent" button in a moment of weakness
I have made sure none of them has an address.
Some of them, well most of them, are not even complete!

These letters start and end in one sentence at times.
Fail to go past the first paragraph in others
But sometimes they carry on for a few hundred words.
And still urge me to go on. 
Some try my favorite game of playing with beautiful words.
Some others are plain. They could not care less for adornments! 

Some show the urge to explain and re-explain the unexplainable.
(Is there even a word like that?)
And then stop the effort mid way. 
When has one ever been able to explain matters of heart, 
Especially when its not understood with heart, at the first go.
Some talk about the days long gone and the hurt that they have left behind. 
Its only good that typed words do not get smeared by tears. 

Some were written when I was so angry that I could barely breathe.
This is a trick an aunt taught me when I was a child.
"Write a long letter in your mind, admonishing the person and then tear it to shreds".
"Never actually write it or send it", she said.
I took part of the advice. I type them and keep.
You should forgive the person, never forget the experience.
And I have figured out if I do not keep it written down somewhere
My memory plays textbook Freud with painful experiences. 

Then there is that letter written to Nobody.
And it reads....
"Dear Nobody, I have never held you in your arms
But in the twilight zone of the day, when my old heart gets squeezed hard
And I like to think of it beyond systolic pressure, I yearn for you.
I know you are a nobody. 
But, you still make me long for you.
In the autumn nights when the cool breeze picks up speed
It pushes me towards you. Urge me to run a bit faster.

In these dew drenched nights,
Do you also wake up and feel like walking towards me?
And stop yourself the two hundred and forty sixth time? 
Do you think of this and that and how impossible it is,
Then return to bed, toss and turn,
And go back to sleep at 2.31 am? 
Finally?"

Do you, Nobody?
For I sure have a letter for you in my draft box. 
It would wait till it can not bear the possibility no more.
And then?
Then it would get deleted.