Letters from Kevin

Dear you,

You left. I'm not going to pretend I don't know that.

Here's what a dog knows that people keep forgetting: we don't choose who stays. We just pick a spot near the door and wait, and hope the sound on the stairs is yours.

I used to think leaving was something only bad people did. It isn't. Good people leave too. They leave because staying costs something they didn't have yet. That's not cruelty. That's being a person with a door of your own.

So this isn't a letter to make you feel it. You already do, or you'd have stopped reading by now.

It's a letter to say: the ones you left are okay. We learned the shape of the room without you. We kept your side cold for a while. Then one day we didn't, and that day wasn't a betrayal either.

If you're the one who left: go easy on yourself. If you're the one who got left: you're allowed to still be here.

This one is for both of you. It's the same letter.

Yours, Kevin

Eighth in a series of sample letters. If you'd like one written for someone of your own, say the word.