Letters by Alexander

I didn't answer. That's the first thing, so it goes first.

Not because I forgot you. Because every time I sat down to write, I could feel how long it had been, and the longer it got, the more the reply had to carry. So I carried nothing, and the nothing got heavier.

You've made a story out of it by now. I would have. Something about how I stopped caring, or how you were easy to put down. Both wrong. I was just afraid of being late.

Here's the part I had backwards: late is survivable. Silent is what does the damage.

So, plainly, and later than I'd like: I'm sorry I went quiet on you. You didn't deserve to sit there holding an open question.

You don't have to answer this. I'm not handing you a bill. I just didn't want the last thing between us to be my silence.

If you ever want to talk, the door's where it always was. If you don't, I'm still glad I finally said it.

Alexander. I write letters for people who can't find the words. First lines free, the finished one $25: [email protected]