They should invent a way to text your ex-boyfriend “I’m pretty sure I had a spiritually significant dream about you” that doesn’t read as “I want you back.” I’d like to let him know that I saw a shadow of his psyche in a far-off dimension.
This essay is an all timer. Before I was even done with the second paragraph I knew this had to be added to my list of essays I want to print out and put in a binder. Nearly every line felt like a moment of reflection. This truly felt like what so many substack posts try to achieve but very few rarely do: an intimate personal essay that leaves the reader struck by the prose and insight alike. Beautiful beautiful beautiful. I mean "Once a full person, now a symbol I have trained my brain to decode." The insight Imbued in this 14 word sentence is absolutely remarkable. I really think it's the comma placement that makes this sentence such a feast. My tendency to want to disentangle the aesthetic value from the message of the words is fruitless in this case(as may be the case for all cases, I mean the whole point of an essay is that if it could've been said effectively in less words it would've been. I'm also realizing that's also its trap since it's assumed that essays are made up of the same type of speech as everyday speech.) Anyways the insight is made buoyant since it can be carried effectively in so few words. We all intuitively know memory but nothing knows it quite like this essay.
I'm not usually a commenter but two nights ago I dreamed about my ex for the first time in over a year. I don't want to get back together - I am very happily in a relationship. In the dream we just walked through my old neighbourhood and he told me he was happy and that life was good to him. Then we hugged each other goodbye and I woke up. Yes, I wish I could text him to say 'I'm really happy you're all good' but I have to believe he was trying to let me know that I don't need to worry about him anymore. Anyway, I am profoundly freaked out by the timing of this piece and also I really loved it. Thanks!
I read it with a quiet sense of recognition—like watching someone give language to a thought I had once felt but could not properly articulate.
Sometime after a breakup in 2024, I found myself writing a short, almost cryptic note in 2025:
“As you continue to live in my subconscious,
Kindly let your invisible hands
Help me repel women like you.
Good riddance.”
At the time, I didn’t fully understand what I meant. I knew I was no longer attached, yet something of her remained—not as a person I could clearly remember, but as a kind of presence shaping my inner responses. It felt real, but also indistinct. I didn’t have the language for it.
Reading your essay in 2026, I realized: this is a thing.
What I experienced was not contradiction or confusion, but transformation. A person becoming an impression. A relationship becoming a symbol. Memory reorganizing itself into something that continues to act, even in absence.
Your articulation of how people become “shadows in the psyche,” how they are reassembled into forms that serve our internal narratives, gave me a framework I didn’t know I needed. It helped me understand that what I had written was not just bitterness or dismissal—it was an early attempt to grapple with how deeply someone can persist within you, even after you have consciously moved on.
There is something deeply grounding about having a private intuition named so precisely. You didn’t just explain a feeling—you legitimized it.
Thank you for that clarity, and for the honesty of your work.
left me thinking about how love doesn’t disappear, it changes form, and how haunting it is that one day we’ll exist in others the same way, not whole, but undeniable.
This essay is an all timer. Before I was even done with the second paragraph I knew this had to be added to my list of essays I want to print out and put in a binder. Nearly every line felt like a moment of reflection. This truly felt like what so many substack posts try to achieve but very few rarely do: an intimate personal essay that leaves the reader struck by the prose and insight alike. Beautiful beautiful beautiful. I mean "Once a full person, now a symbol I have trained my brain to decode." The insight Imbued in this 14 word sentence is absolutely remarkable. I really think it's the comma placement that makes this sentence such a feast. My tendency to want to disentangle the aesthetic value from the message of the words is fruitless in this case(as may be the case for all cases, I mean the whole point of an essay is that if it could've been said effectively in less words it would've been. I'm also realizing that's also its trap since it's assumed that essays are made up of the same type of speech as everyday speech.) Anyways the insight is made buoyant since it can be carried effectively in so few words. We all intuitively know memory but nothing knows it quite like this essay.
This is stunning — intimate, cerebral, and quietly devastating in the way only honest reflection can be.
I'm not usually a commenter but two nights ago I dreamed about my ex for the first time in over a year. I don't want to get back together - I am very happily in a relationship. In the dream we just walked through my old neighbourhood and he told me he was happy and that life was good to him. Then we hugged each other goodbye and I woke up. Yes, I wish I could text him to say 'I'm really happy you're all good' but I have to believe he was trying to let me know that I don't need to worry about him anymore. Anyway, I am profoundly freaked out by the timing of this piece and also I really loved it. Thanks!
Xochitl Gonzalez's 2024 novel, "Anita de Monte Laughs Last" is based on Mendieta's story!
I was actually just speaking to someone about Gonzalez' wok! Adding this to my TBR
Dear Eliza
Thank you for The Space You Leave Behind.
I read it with a quiet sense of recognition—like watching someone give language to a thought I had once felt but could not properly articulate.
Sometime after a breakup in 2024, I found myself writing a short, almost cryptic note in 2025:
“As you continue to live in my subconscious,
Kindly let your invisible hands
Help me repel women like you.
Good riddance.”
At the time, I didn’t fully understand what I meant. I knew I was no longer attached, yet something of her remained—not as a person I could clearly remember, but as a kind of presence shaping my inner responses. It felt real, but also indistinct. I didn’t have the language for it.
Reading your essay in 2026, I realized: this is a thing.
What I experienced was not contradiction or confusion, but transformation. A person becoming an impression. A relationship becoming a symbol. Memory reorganizing itself into something that continues to act, even in absence.
Your articulation of how people become “shadows in the psyche,” how they are reassembled into forms that serve our internal narratives, gave me a framework I didn’t know I needed. It helped me understand that what I had written was not just bitterness or dismissal—it was an early attempt to grapple with how deeply someone can persist within you, even after you have consciously moved on.
There is something deeply grounding about having a private intuition named so precisely. You didn’t just explain a feeling—you legitimized it.
Thank you for that clarity, and for the honesty of your work.
wow this actually brought me so much peace thank you
left me thinking about how love doesn’t disappear, it changes form, and how haunting it is that one day we’ll exist in others the same way, not whole, but undeniable.
keep rereading this one over and over again along w the album , this is better song right ? it hurts in the same way
i really really enjoyed this thank you
wow. chilling, life imitating art 4 real. thank you for passing on Mendieta's story packaged so eloquently and softly with the fabric of your own
this read so richly, wonderful essay.
Wonderful essay. ✨
beautiful 🤍 this resonates with this time of my life so much!!!