You’ll never read this, and that’s ok. Even if you did, it wouldn’t change anything. And that’s the way it has to be. I don’t want it to be, I never did, but it has to.

I still think about you all the time. I doubt you think of me; and if you do it would be vitriolic and I’d deserve that. What I experienced with you was beyond special, and I understand that more with the passage of time. For you maybe it will be a tiny, insignificant blot on an otherwise beautiful life, but for me it was wonderful thing, earth shattering even.

I’m so sorry for all the hurt I caused. I do sincerely hope that will fade if it hasn’t already. I understand the war will have caused further pain. Your life will be harder and you will be changed because of it. I couldn’t contact you and I think deep inside you know why.

But I’m sorry, anyway.

I’m many ways all of my heart is still yours. Again, deep inside you, you know that’s true. That connection between us was raw, and flawed, yes; but that passion was real, and will continue to burn, probably as long as I live.

I’ll think of you always. Live well, honey.