I'm writing you this because I am a coward. I'm leaving…after our conversation I know that if I stay there will be no wedding. I will take the turn away from my room and into yours. You gave such refreshing honesty…the kind that I have not seen in such a long time from anyone else. You've always done that to me, surprise me with such insightful thoughts on myself and life. I didn't know how very much I had missed it until tonight. Being with you, in your presence…it affects me in ways that I thought were long gone, but thankfully- or maybe not so thankfully- those feelings are still there, stronger than ever. I'm rambling, I know and I realize that it is in large part because a part of me wants you to come back into this room and find me here so that I won't have the strength to leave you. Part of me hopes- prays that this letter goes unfinished because you couldn't leave it up to me and we forged some new and different path together. I'm still writing, so you've yet to stop this insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, is that what this is, some kind of carousel ride? We dodge confronting our feelings for years, wrecking everything and everyone in our paths because we're afraid of them and what they might cost. I'm still digressing, I know, but in my defense I thought that I heard a noise behind me and I can't help but to hope that it's you coming to stop this letter and make us a reality. Maybe you've paused for a moment, not wanting to interrupt what I am doing. Interrupt, please interrupt and let me stop this. Don't wait for me to finish. Let's not wait another second… I'll close this now, though with great reluctance… If you're not there when I turn around… Goodbye to you and remember that you always have been and always will be loved…

Always…