Work Text:
My Dearest Sasha,
I don't know why I'm writing this, although I do know: I'm afraid of what might happen if I told you this face to face. I don't want to lose you as a friend, as someone who was there for me in moments of triumph and defeat. As someone with whom I shared the locker room, laugh, and tears.
Maybe that's why it's easier to write than to speak. Paper doesn't judge, doesn't respond with a look of surprise, disappointment or disgust. Paper will simply accept everything and keep it silent.
I'm so happy for you, Sasha. Watching you smile when you look at Misha and Makar gives me something I can't quite put my finger on. On the one hand, I feel joy because I know you deserve this love more than anyone else. You, who fought your whole life, put everything on the line, broke barriers and didn’t gave up even after Beijing. And on the other, this same scene stabs me straight in my heart, because I can't help but think I wish I were in Makar’s shoes.
I wish you'd look at me like that - with that glint that makes the world cease to exist for a moment. For you to hug me every night, whisper that everything will be alright, kiss me at the altar, and look into my eyes so deeply that I could drown in those gazes.
But I know that will never happen. I know I'm not the person you could have chosen. And I have no regrets-I truly do. Because your happiness, even if it's not connected to me, makes me feel that my feelings aren't entirely meaningless.
Over the years, I've learned to win. On the ice, with pain, with tears, sometimes at the expense of myself-but to win. There, in this cool, illuminated space, I could prove to myself and the world that I'm strong. But here? In this place of my heart? Here, I'm helpless. Here, there are no points, judges, or medals. Here, there's no perfectly planned program to follow step by step. Here, I'm naked, defenseless, without a chance.
And the strangest thing is, when I look at your happiness, I don't know if I'd even want a chance. Because taking that smile away from you would be the cruelest thing I could do. And I never, ever want to be the reason for your tears.
Maybe I'm writing this letter just to finally release the emotions that have been pent up in me for years. I've been silent for so long that they've begun to fester inside me, as if demanding space, air. Now they breathe on paper-and I feel relief, even though I know I'll never show it to you.
I remember the first time we met at a junior competition, we weren’t even training under Eteri then. You were like a storm: wild, untamed, ready to throw yourself into the world without fear. I was calmer, more reserved, but even then I felt something drawing me to you. It wasn't simple sympathy or admiration-rather, a strange trembling somewhere deep inside that awoke every time you stepped onto the ice.
Then came years of training together, competing, victories, and defeats. How many times have we stood side by side on the podium, holding our medals, and all I could think was how perfect this moment would be, if we could share something more than just a smile for the cameras. How many times have I dreamed that after a performance, you would not only hug me in friendship, but that that embrace would last longer, stronger, more genuine.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had the courage to tell you this long ago. Maybe everything would have turned out differently. Maybe you would have laughed and said it was impossible. Maybe you would have pushed me away. Or maybe... just maybe...
But I don't want to speculate. Because the present is what it is-and I wouldn't trade it for anything if it meant costing you your happiness and family you have.
So I'm writing this only for myself. Maybe someday, many years from now, you'll find this letter in some drawer, in an old notebook, and read it with a faint smile. Maybe you'll be moved for a moment, and then return to your life. Or maybe you'll never see it, because I'll burn it before anyone even gets a chance to lay eyes on it.
And maybe that's how it should be. Because love doesn't always have to mean possession. Sometimes the greatest proof of love is letting someone go, or rather, letting them follow their own path, even if it's a path I have no place on.
Sasha, if you ever feel like the world is against you, remember that I will always be there. Maybe not by your side in the way I'd like. Maybe not in the spotlight or in the privacy of my home. But in my heart-always.
I don't know if this letter will ever see the light of day. Perhaps I'll bury it deep and forget it. Perhaps I'll write another, and then another-until I'm finally free from the words that imprison me from within.
But today, as I finish these sentences, I feel peace. Because though you'll never know, I've finally said what's been longing to surface for a long time.
I love you.
In my own quiet, hidden way.
Your Anya.