My dear W,
It is my triumph that you trust me the way that you do. Why would you tell me the things you have never told anyone else? The parts of your past that still shred your heart and pull you so deeply into them that you feel everything again as if for the first time. It’s a fine line where opposing extremes collide. Maybe you can tell me because I’m nothing, no one, not-important. Maybe it’s something else…
The list of roles I’ll never play in your life doesn’t make me sad.
I’m over the moon, really, that I get to be just one: friend.
(Disclaimer: This is part of the letter series)