I wrote a letter once, in a moment when I was barely holding on, and sent it out to people I'd called my circle — gold, unbreakable, or so I'd been told. It went into the void. Two years of silence followed: two years of gray, while I was fighting just to find a way to stay. Unanswered Letter is what I learned in that silence — that "friends" is a word some people only say until the weather turns cold. I was drowning in a room full of air, and no one was there. This is the scream inside that quiet.