I apologize in advance for anything I fail to say, but I eventually realized that it was a far worse sin to not contact you than it would be to send you an imperfect version. I can’t imagine what you think of me right now, or what you have been imagining this past week. I am so sorry for the silence, and for everything I’m about to say. We can’t see each other anymore. (But you already knew that, didn’t you?) I allowed myself to go to a bad place this month—why, I can’t say—and I dragged you into it. I don’t know what is to blame: the horrific winter weather? The nostalgia prompted by our imminent graduation? The fact that our “anniversary” (if you can call it that) was passing? I don’t know. But I know that it’s my fault. You and I have been over for a long time. I understand that now. And I do want to thank you for being there for me these past few weeks and for humoring me while I worked out my issues. I wish you the best of luck with your applications.
