The Loud Noise of Silence

I know how unlikely it is for this message to reach you. But I just wrote
I, may never really manifest the me that I am
I, whose existence can be fulfilled with a series of words,
but also dispersed and deposited with other words
All these relations between multiple subjects are, in simple terms,
never more than causal relationships
About how we can see the same thing,
about how we can agree on it,
about how we can pretend it never existed.

But, how exactly do we understand nothingness?
Doesn't it mean that when it exists, nothingness doesn't really exist?
Or when it doesn't exist, does it mean nothingness exists at all?

My sweet love, my good love.
My intention is actually simple,
I want to stand up and invite you
to sit in the chair I was sitting in,
witnessed by the city bus window showing
the water droplets from the rain last afternoon.
Then we walked a few dozen steps on the pedestrians
while occasionally avoiding muddy puddles.
We're talking about the weather, which is clearly drizzling,
but we're still talking about how it's been
in the past few seconds, minutes and hours.
What we can actually examine in a weather forecasting application,
but still, when exactly it rains heavily
accompanied by dozens of lightning flashes alternately,
and when it is still in the form of overcast clouds
covering the city with darkness, it is essential for us to discuss.
Because we both understand that talking about clouds
and their evolutionary cycle can distract from the thick clouds
in each of our minds.
Yes, even though we both understand that this never happened,
I can't remember exactly how much time we spent
staring at each other and exchanging silence
And how exactly we let every unspoken word sublimate
and disappear
I know how unlikely it is for this message to reach you. But I just wrote.