Will,

I told you it was about the timing. The distance, the two jobs, the thousand sensible reasons. I let you believe I wasn't sure.

I was sure. I have never in my life been more sure of anything, and I picked the sensible thing anyway, and I have thought about it on and off for nine years now.

Here's what I never told you. If there are other versions of this life, other me's making other choices in other rooms, I already know exactly what every single one of them does the second she sees you. She walks straight over. She doesn't even glance at the sensible option.

You were not my safe choice. You were the right one, and I knew it, and I was a coward in the one place it actually counted.

I hope she's good to you. I hope you forgot to wonder. I'm only writing it down because you'll never read it, and a person should say the true thing out loud at least once in their life, even if it's only into the dark.