Like a snap, feelings can change in an instant. Not too long ago we were sitting here on this log, together, looking out across the lake. Calm as it was, talking about something. We could always talk about something. That was special about us. No matter the season, no matter the reason, there was always something or other to discuss and we always had fun doing it. I'll miss the way you could talk for hours about anything just because I was there to listen. I'll miss every part of you I lost when I stopped caring. But I won't miss you. This lake was where you spread your grandmother's ashes. I remember you were close, she asked you specifically to do it here. Apparently she met her husband by this lake. We always thought that was poetic, since the lake became our spot too. There's nothing poetic about it now. It's just a spot we used to meet. It's somewhere, but it's just anywhere now. Part of me was hoping you'd be here, sitting by the lake, maybe crying because I'd left. Part of me wanted to see you, the visage of you that I'd built up in my mind. I wanted to arrive, having left the real you behind, and see the person I always believed was underneath sitting there in the shade with a frangipani tucked behind your ear like I always used to do for you, crying because I'd left. Part of me was broken when I arrived and that impossible thing was not true. Impossible never meant anything to my feelings. I always believed you could change. I suppose this is the last letter you'll receive from me. For the record, I still believe you can change. I just won't be there to see it.
