Dearest L,

It’s been a few months since I last wrote to you. I try to find the words, but somehow they’re not there anymore. It makes me nervous, the effect I know my words must have on you. It’s funny how you can be a completely different person from the person your words make you to be. It actually frightens me how separated I have been from all the things I have said and done for years. I don’t even know how I feel anymore to begin to explain it or find the words to describe it. It is very literal here; how life ends in a split second. Somedays I wake up thinking it’s too precious to waste another minute without following my heart and without being with you. But then in my dark days, I feel so hopeless I can barely keep myself alive. I know you were waiting for comfort and hope in my words, but as you said in your last letter, I have changed and you need to know who I really am before you waste more time waiting for someone who’s never coming home. 

Yours,

S.