In it will be all of the things I want to say to you but won’t, because you don’t deserve to know. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell the truth. I’ll admit to my faults, and condemn you for yours. I’m going to write them all down, seal them in an envelope, and address it to a random address in the city you now live in. I’m going to put postage stamps on it, and no return address. I’ll walk to the post office, drop the letter through the blue door, and go about my life. I’m not going to spend any more time thinking about you, talking about you, looking at photos of us, reworking the story, remembering everything, and wishing I could forget. I’m not going to have to wonder anymore. I’m going to assume if you were meant to get my letter, you did. I will assume, forever, that you knew all of the facts, and stayed away anyway. It will be over, and I will be okay.