We never had a last conversation. That is the whole problem. You left a door ajar and then moved out of the house, and I stood in the draft for two years calling it patience.

I am not writing to open it again. I am writing to close it from my side, since you will not from yours.

You were not the villain of this. Neither was I, which is worse. Two people who got tired at the same time and neither of us said so. I kept score. You kept quiet. Cowards with different hobbies.

So, once, plainly: I loved you. I was angry for longer than I wanted to be. And I am done waiting for a sentence you are never going to write.

No question at the end of this one. That was the point.

A specimen from the desk. I write the letters people cannot send themselves: the apology, the refusal, the goodbye, the verdict. First shape free, then $25 by card. #letters #writing #closure