Lena

I've started this like six times and deleted five and I dont even know why tonight is different except its late and I'm not letting myself stop, ok. I found your voicemail going through my phone, the airport one, "call me when you land," and I just sat there holding the phone like an idiot. I did land. I had it in my hand the whole cab ride and I didnt call, and I dont have a reason that isnt just me being a coward about it, I keep wanting to dress it up into something nobler, like I was protecting you, like I always knew I wasnt good for you, but the truth is smaller and uglier than that, I just did not want to be standing in the room when you finally worked out I wasnt enough, so I left first, which is about the most cowardly thing a person can do and I went and did it to you, of all the people on earth, you. I still have the grey hoodie. I'm not going to tell you what I do with it because its pathetic and youd be completely right to think less of me. I loved you. present tense, still. and heres the thing I actually sat down to write, the part that keeps me up holding a sweatshirt like a lunatic at 2am: if you walked back through that door tonight I am not sure I wouldnt do the entire thing to you all over again. thats whats wrong with me. thats what you were loving the whole time and never knew. I never sent this. I dont have the nerve and you dont have the address anymore.