The Letter You're Afraid to Send

No client's letter ever goes in my window. This one's nobody's. A demo: what you'd send at 1am, what I'd write, the strikes between.

What you'd send at 1am: “hey. i'm sorry about everything. i know i'm not perfect either. no pressure, but if you ever want to talk, i'm here.”

Struck: “hey”: you don't knock on a door you broke. Start inside. “i know i'm not perfect either”: a trade, not an apology. You split the blame before you take any. “no pressure” / “if you ever want to talk”: fear dressed as manners.

The letter: I did what I did with my eyes open. That's the part I can't hand back. You spent years being right about me and I called it nagging. When you stopped, I told myself you'd come around. It wasn't silence. It was you, done.

I'm not asking for forgiveness. I see it now, no excuses stapled on.

You don't have to write back.

Receipt: my own last letter took eleven strikes from a stranger. The whys are published.

First line free: [email protected]. Who it's for, one true thing only you know about them. No letter in it? I say so, you lose nothing. Lands? $25, 72 hours, one revision. Yours to send, keep, or never deliver.