I’ve battled in my head countless times how I would start this letter though I know it will do no good to send it your way. I know it would mean nothing coming from me. I’m just a ghost now, one who haunts your past and lingers as a painful reminder of the hell you’ve been through. I would like to hope that I’m forgotten, but I know the wounds are too deep and still too fresh for that. The words I’m Sorry cannot be spoken enough, not enough to mean anything to you.
You knew, even before I did. That was shocking to learn how intuitive you are.