Dear David,

 

I’m writing this letter knowing you’ll never read it, but sometimes, things that were left unsaid still need to be whispered to the universe. Or so my shrink tells me.

 

That’s right. I have a shrink. I bet you didn’t see that one coming, huh? Neither did I.

 

I’ve made a mess of things here, David. And I’m trying like hell to fix everything that I broke. But the thing I can’t fix is us.

 

I always encouraged you to dream big, and you did. But when your dream came true, I was so blinded by my jealousy, I couldn’t be your cheerleader. That was my first mistake. The second was not trusting you. Maybe by now you’ve moved on. Maybe you’ve moved on with Danny, or maybe with a girl you met in a crowd. But you wouldn’t have even had to have moved on if I had only pulled back. I was so scared of someone taking you away from me that I pushed you away before it even happened.

 

I wish I could go back to January and tell the old me to just breathe. To let go and trust in us. But I can’t. I made my choices. Some of them so dark and so horrible you can’t even imagine what I would have done. But it’s now part of my past. And I have to live with it. That’s hard. But not as hard as living without you in my life.

 

They say time heals all wounds. But it’s been almost five months since I kissed you good-bye at the airport, and it still hurts just as bad as it did that day.

How do I heal, David? How do I move on? How do I breathe?

I can’t.

I fear I never will. You were my first love. But I didn’t want you to be my first. I wanted you to be my only. Is that selfish?

 

I’ve tried to bring myself to delete photos of you from my phone— they’re still there.

And although I packed up all your stuff and brought it back to your apartment, I secretly kept one of your shirts, and I often sleep in it, for that’s the closest thing I have to your arms around me. That and the kitten that is turning into a lanky teenager. Sometimes I find myself talking to that little beast about you. He’s like the child left behind in our divorce. I feel like I need to talk about his “father” or else he’ll forget. Mostly, I just don’t want to forget.

 

You’re the last thing I think about when I go to sleep and the first thing I think about when I wake up. I hope that one day, our lives will cross paths again. But if they don’t, please know that I wish you nothing but success and love in your life.

 

Our time together is tattooed across my heart forever.

 

I love you, David Archer.

Yesterday. Today. Always.

 

Forever yours,

Kristen

 

I reread the letter, thinking how pathetic I sounded. I was glad David would never see it. But Dr. Rivers insisted I do this as part of my therapy, and in the weeks that followed that pivotal night with Harry, I had a brand new outlook on life. I tried to attack everything with the slaying attitude I used to possess, beginning with taking therapy as seriously as I did my undergrad classes. I had turned all my grades around, and with the amount of extra credit I had done, coupled with the hours of studying I put in to ace my exams, there was no longer a question: I was back on track and would be graduating on time.

Looking at the letter again, I took out a lighter and held the paper over the ashtray, ready to burn that sucker and send my intentions out into the loopy spirit realm like Dr. Rivers had instructed. But I stopped myself. I couldn’t do it.

“Hey, you need a ride to the Draught? I’m heading over there,” Brit said.

Tearing my gaze away from the letter, I nodded. “Yeah sure.”

“What were you doing?”

I handed Brit the paper. “My homework.” I shrugged.  “Maybe one day I’ll be able to look back on this and not feel so raw. Maybe I’ll smile and say how I remembered loving him.”

I couldn’t watch Brit read it. I didn’t want to see the array of emotions play across her eyes. So instead, I held my head down, focused on the high gloss shine from my manicure. Natalie was a tyrant when it came to my beauty regime. Risking a peek, I looked at Brit. She had turned the letter over and was now on the back page. When she had finished, she drew her gaze up, locking her eyes with mine. Empathy shined back at me. I half expected Brit to hug me. “Why don’t you send this to him?”

“I can’t. I’m too scared.” Wasn’t that obvious? I mean, I put it in the letter. Didn’t she read that part? “Besides, no idea where to send it.”

“That’s not true. You have his address. Just a few months ago you had sent him care packages.”

Damn. She always was able to point out things I had overlooked. Still, I shook my head.

“Kristen, you have everything to gain and nothing to lose. If he says no, you’re exactly in the same place you are now.”

“I’m glad you think so highly of me. But I’m afraid I’m just not strong enough to hear that no, Brit.” I crumpled the letter and tossed it in the trash. “Come on. I have to get to work.” I bent down and kissed the kitten, who was sleeping curled up on the corner of my bed. “Bye, Beast.” He twitched his nose in response.

 

 

“Hey, Kris, you mind taking my shift next Friday night?” Erik asked as we wiped down tables to close the Draught.

“Sure, why?”

“I got tickets to see Dave Matthews in Philly. I’m going to take Brit.”

“I don’t think Brit is really into Dave Matthews. Now Dave Navarro is another story.”

“Ha. You’re hysterical. She already knows. She’s excited.” He was smiling as he turned chairs over and put them on the tables.

“Excited?”

Erik looked at me and thought about it. “Indifferent,” he decided.

“That’s what I thought. Yeah, I’ll cover for you. It’s not like I have a life or anything.”

“Are you kidding? Look around you, this is like coolness central.” Erik spread his arms wide, his gaze taking in the coffee house.

“I said I’d cover your shift, no need to patronize me.”

“Thanks, I owe ya one.”

“Eh. You helped out that night with Harry. I’d say we’re even.”

He nodded, and I wondered if I had made it weird. We hadn’t spoken about Harry since the night of the incident. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about him every day. I knew, deep down, Harry wasn’t bad. I had to believe that. He just became a different person when he was using. I had a feeling he was doing heavier stuff, too. Stuff I didn’t even know about. But it was all speculation. I knew he wouldn’t be in rehab forever, and part of me wanted to see him. To set things straight. Then, there was the part of me that recalled how different I behaved when I was with him. How I had almost lost myself in the process. And that part smacked some sense into me and said, “Girl, stay away.”

And staying away was the right decision, for several reasons. Hanging out with Harry meant I’d eventually cross paths with other members of David’s family. Or worse… David himself. I wondered what he would have done had he known how far things almost went with Harry. I wondered who he would hate more. Harry for offering me those pills, or me for putting myself in several intimate situations with him. But like a lot of questions I had lately, I knew I’d never really get an answer.