r/UnsentLettersRaw

I can’t help but still think of you.

In every possible way.

You’re like an insane ghost attached to my soul.

A devil.

Stop haunting me already.

Let me live in peace.

Stop occupying every corner of my mind.

Stop showing up where you no longer belong.

Your thoughts annoy me to the core.

And maybe that’s because they still make me feel like you exist somewhere.

Still out there. Still breathing beneath the same sky.

I can feel your existence.

Lingering. Lurking. Hovering.

And I wish I could get over it.

Once and for all.

So now please — go away.

Or come back.

For good.

You devil....

I hope one day I'll have the guts to tell you I love you. I hope one day I'll be able to move on and understand loving you wasn't about the recipcated feelings it was about understanding how far my love can go, it was understanding how far I can push my limits until I break. Of course I wish we could have happened who wouldn't but at some point my love can only go so far before I break my own heart by holding out hope. I can only yearn for you for so long because at some point my love can't go any further for you. It sits and it festers until the love turns ugly and I don't recognize the person standing in front of the mirror anymore. Sometimes its a bad thing sometimes it's a good thing I don't recognize the person in the mirror, but I'm worried who I'm gonna look like when your gone.

I have to end this story.

How? By ripping off the band‑aid in one firm pull.

That’s all there is to it, folks.

There's still time, just message me, text me, call me. And I'll turn around.

I'm only doing this I can't keep going on thinking you're here and want me, unless i known you're actually here and want me.

It's destroying me being delusional like this. I signed the listing agreement for my house this morning, it's going on the market in a week or two.

Ok please just reach out and I'll turn around I promise.

Keep trying to wiggle out of your grip

Trying to fill the space you left with other things

Human, inhuman, inhumane distractions

Other men

Look into their eyes

Nothing is there but you, and they know. They try not to, but they know. I can only lie well these days when my heart is in it, maybe people really can change

I even took a chainsaw, cut down your tree, and I’m like there! It’s dead. Good for me. Job well done. But, always the fool for you, aren’t I? I should have known that by now. Only you could grow leaves and branches from a stump.

Fucking pointless

I hate the power you have over me. But I could never hate you. Believe me, I’ve tried.

Maybe this is what it means to be a crazy girl. Crazy for you, crazy for love, crazy in general. D. All of the above

I would only choose anyone or anything else if I had no other choice. Do you know that? Or is my deflection working?

I used to think healing meant eventually becoming angry enough to stop loving someone. But lately, I’ve realized something harder and sadder:

I don’t think I can fully hate him.

Not because what happened didn’t hurt me. It did. Deeply. There were lies, avoidance, confusion, emotional damage, and so many moments where I questioned my worth because of how everything unfolded. I carried the ricochet of wounds that were never mine to begin with.

But deep down… I understand him now in a way I couldn’t before.

His first relationship broke him. The way he described her, she was avoidant, cold, emotionally distant, and hurt him badly. And somewhere along the way, I think he slowly became what hurt him most. Not intentionally. Not maliciously. Just… unhealed.

I was the first person who genuinely loved him after all of that, and instead of knowing how to receive love safely, he protected himself from it. Avoided it. Ran from it. Sabotaged it before it could hurt him first.

And the painful part is realizing:
sometimes wounded people recreate the same pain they once begged someone else not to give them.

I don’t excuse what he did. Understanding someone’s pain doesn’t erase the damage they caused. I still have scars from loving him. I still remember crying over things that could have been solved with honesty, communication, reassurance, and emotional maturity.

But I also can’t ignore the humanity in it anymore.

I think he was fighting battles inside himself that he didn’t fully understand. I think he loved me in the only way he knew how at the time — through fear, avoidance, shutdowns, and emotional survival mechanisms. And sadly, those survival mechanisms hurt me in the process.

Maybe that’s the hardest part of love sometimes.

Realizing someone can love you and still not know how to love you correctly.

So no… I don’t fully hate him.

I think I grieved long enough to finally see the wounded little boy underneath the man who hurt me. And honestly, that realization hurts in an entirely different way.

The desire to be understood
The want to be loved
The need to be safe

All of the above.

These things…

Keep me up at night

I fell in love with the flowers that never came ,
I pictured us and put it on a frame.
I doted on the letters you never wrote me,
I, your devotee.
I made you my muse,
I, someone ,you’d never choose.

Dear fans of the show
Blackmail letters cloned phones
Pathetic attempts to get my engagement
Ive got your number uou couldnt resist
i did it for the plot
Posted some shit
You couldn’t help but respond
Im laughing so hard
Dam cuz or is it a crow
Birdbrains for sure
🖕🏼🫶🏼

Your name popped up on my screen
And I felt the tight knot on my chest unravel and it’s funny cause I didn’t even notice it was there until I felt the relief of it’s absence when I saw your name on my screen.
The space between my thumb and the button to receive your call felt like miles, no oceans! Like oceans and oceans!
You tell me about your day and I’m lost in the sound of your voice. I feel myself relaxing to the sound of it, and when you speak it’s like that’s how words were meant to exist, like they suddenly carry a whole new meaning, a higher level of significance, like the word “Hello” was born to be uttered by you!
I told my friends that I don’t even like you like that when they asked about you earlier today, told em that “it’s never that serious” even threw in a “ it’s whatever, I don’t really care” perfectly performing the nonchalance that this generation’s idea of dating requires of me.
In a perfect world, I’d be brave enough to tell them how I feel…..to tell you! I’d confess the silent prayer I whispered under my breath as i denied harbouring any feelings for you, i would bear my soft heart out to you in all its vulnerability, I’d allow the facade that is my ‘nonchalance’ to crumble and proudly declare how i feel,
id tell you that that i miss you when you’re not around, that I see you everywhere I go, in the stranger enjoying an orange because you said you like oranges that one time, Id explain that suddenly it’s like I’m seeing the world through the lens of… well you!
Perhaps in this make shift universe you would feel the same way, perhaps you’d tell me in articulate detail how i too roam freely in the chambers of your heart, perhaps then, i would allow myself the luxury of being yours,
But the world is far from perfect and i recognise these feelings for what they are, a warning! A threat to my peace of mind, i know of their potential to steal sleep and any form of joy and as such I can not allow myself such extravagant luxuries,
Instead I pacify my heart with the sweet music that is your voice, i revel in the sound of your laughter and find peace in the knowledge that we’re both lying on our backs talking to each other tonight. That I exist under the same stars you do.
For now that’s enough.

Yours (only in crossed fingered wishes)

Dostoevsky once said

"I would've given her the whole world

but she wanted someone who already had it”

And maybe that was us

Because I wouldve bled myself dry just to build a future beside you

a small house

late night drives

your head on my shoulder

a life nobody else would understand but us

Love with you never felt temporary to me

it never felt like lust convenience or some passing moment people eventually forget

It felt permanent

The kind of permanent that settles into a man’s soul so deeply

he starts building his entire future around one person without even realizing it

I didnt love you for a season

I loved you in a way that reached beyond tomorrow

beyond distance

beyond the damage we both carried

I loved you like someone I was supposed to grow old beside

Kafka said

"so I watched her leave not because she didnt love me but because I wasnt enough to make her stay"

And that line lives inside me now

Because I still wonder if you ever looked back after leaving

if there was even one moment where your chest hurt the way mine did

I know people will say to move on to forget you to stop romanticizing pain

But they never loved you

They never saw the way you could make silence feel beautiful

how even your sadness felt softer than anyone elses happiness

And maybe that was my tragedy

loving you like a future while you loved me like a moment

Still if life gave me another chance I would choose you again

Even knowing you would still leave.

And so we parted ways,
like the night that swallows all its days.
So quietly and peacefully,
Yet quite so easily.
Like we had never danced beneath the sun ,
Or our souls were ever one.
As if we never loved so deeply,
and gave ourselves completely.
As though I never fell asleep in your arms ,
Collecting each kiss around my neck as charms.
We parted ways as if we never knew love for what it was ,
Quite so easily as if there was never an “us”.

To get over him.

Start fresh.

Talk to someone new.

Someone new, who I’d hit it off with, easily.

To feel like myself again.

Wholehearted, cheerful, at peace.

The day is not so far.

I hope.

Dear you,

I hope this letter finds you well, preferably wearing pants with deep pockets because I have a very important proposal: I would like to take you to the circus.

Now before you assume this is because you already live like a feral raccoon who survives on snacks and chaos, hear me out.

Picture it: dazzling acrobats flying through the air while I dramatically gasp every seven seconds. Clowns making questionable life choices. A man somehow fitting inside a tiny car, which honestly feels like preparation for our future road trips. Cotton candy so large it becomes a personality trait. It’s romance.

Also, I believe you would thrive in the circus environment. You already possess several qualifying talents:

Eating alarming amounts of food in one sitting

Making me laugh at inappropriate times

Occasional acts of emotional acrobatics

The ability to disappear when it’s time to choose a restaurant

I want us to sit under the big top together, judging trapeze technique like experts despite knowing absolutely nothing. I want to hold your hand during the dangerous stunts while pretending I’m brave. I want to argue over whether funnel cake counts as dinner. (It does.)

Most importantly, I think life is better when we do ridiculous things together. And honestly, if we’re going to embrace the chaos of adulthood, we might as well do it while watching a man in sequins ride two horses at once.

So what do you say? Will you accompany me to the circus and create memories that will confuse future historians?

Yours sincerely,

Your Favorite Ringmaster of Bad Ideas 🎪

We barely liked each other. Idc what you’re doing with your life now. I wouldn’t be jealous if you had another partner. I don’t care at all. What I do care about is our son. Our perfect little boy who you haven’t even seen take steps. You never heard him speak. You deprived your son of a father. YOU decided to abandon him after 10 months. I never stopped you seeing him, I never pushed you away or made it difficult, I always put importance on you two having a relationship. You disappeared. Neither of us had a dad growing up, I thought you’d know better. I saw you be a wonderful dad to your older son, however that led to you ditching ours on Christmas and even his 1st birthday to be with your other kid. Although this isn’t your oldest son’s fault, he is a genuinely lovely, kind, smart little boy… so is ours. He’s so funny, he’s silly, he’s a handful but oh my god he’s the smartest toddler I’ve ever met. He’s not even 3 yet and can count to 50, he can read and spell, he’s super advanced with maths, he knows his 2 AND 3 times tables. And you’re missing it. And when he starts to ask about why he doesn’t have a dad and it makes him feel not worth and not good enough, it will be your fault. Not mine. I give everything to our boy and I do it with a smile. Fuck you. You can rot in hell for all I care.

Oh Darlin', What a fuckin' week... eh? 

What the actual fuck are we doing? Weren't we just happily chuggin' along without forcing anything? I thought we were doing quite well... Well... that is until I predictably jumped the gun and way over committed myself, as I am so fucking stupidly want to do... Then, also predictably, I got wildly uncomfortable with those same decisions that I made while high on pussy juices and steadfast admiration... I'm tumbling headlong into bad patterns again... I need to break these cycles before I make a fucking horrible mistake and really hurt you beyond reproach...

I then proceeded to shut myself off from the rest of the world entirely, like a fucking reckless recluse... Compulsively careless camouflage costuming calamity cautiously consuming calming clarity... Nothing healthy about that at all... It was almost a mantra the amount of times that I said those exact words aloud... Clearly you've heard me say that this isn't healthy multiple times... At least I hope you've heard me...

Regardless, if I met THE absolute 10 out of 10, "perfect"  woman of my dreams... One that checked every single box... There will always be lots of doubt from the annals of my dating tomes...  "Misadventures in Relationship History Volumes I-IV" but that's honestly just par for my course sweet dear... I can't trust a good thing until it's smacking me in the face... I have a burning want, or need, to explore the fairer sex in many ways that I haven't before... 

We've done-so quite a bit together, but the doubt, dear lover, that lump of fear presents in ways unseen by yourself, and only aview from above... From an outsider's point of view... You hold on too tight, as I slip through the tiny cracks of your fingers... Like trying to catch falling water from the sky, it may become a fool's errand in the end... If you squeeze a pretty balloon too tightly, it pops under the stresses and pressures exerted...

For our first kind of bad fight, it was a doozy of epically elephantic emotional expulsion, ever eradicating emissions entering enigmatically enthusiastic escorts evitable ease... I desperately hope that I haven't said, or done, anything that may have hurt you with my callousness. My positive treatment of you is a reflection of how I feel about you. I treat you well because I think you deserve it, but I don't know that it's me going to be scratching your back 20 years from now... 

My uncertainty is more than real given my track record. My brash statements of desire are speaking such truth unto my heart, from the voice of a sounder, more wizened mind that I've studiously acquired through intensive therapy... My position has been unwavering, which is not your favorite take, I know... and I truly am sorry that we don't line up in that way... We want different things for ourselves right now... It's never been more apparent to me than analyzing the lashings I've begrudgingly endured this week...

Planting seeds of doubt, ultimately, that were just your own bullshit insecurity-ridden crab ass apple trees... They are now ours as well! Congratulations! You fell madly in love with the fucking chronically unavailable, relatively avoidant, OCD Doubt Festival Ringleader! Sit! Sit! The show starts any time now... I just gotta make sure everything is setup to absolute perfection before I fuck all of my shit up with my tomfoolery and selfishly selfless antics... I break these chains daily, I can't be held down anymore... One exposure at a time to shrink the demon Gerald into the tiny mouse that he is...

You've been my over-efficient, uncharacteristically, extraordinarily extroverted, Johnny Fuckin' Appleseed of dauntless doubt. Just planting those bastards all over the meaty abacus countryside of wrinkly valleys giving way to prairies replete with purple mountains majesty and shit... I feel you burrowing in a corkscrew motion and it scares the absolute shit out of me. Makes me feel a certain familiar control over my wants and needs... It's not anything either one of us is consciously doing. We're both fucking crazy... It really sucks eggs being both a rabid people pleaser, and an honest man sometimes... ain't I just such a stinker?

I don't just dive into every day deftly drowning in doubt... I was fucking shamefully birthed of this sickly sticky,  yet slickly slimy shit... Consumed by the torturous suffering for the vast majority of my enfeebled life... I crave degradation and pain as a short-circuited, broken methodology... a means to process all of my guilt soaking unfathomable sadness and pent up aggressive desires of carnal pleasure...

As a child, I had no control over my thoughts or ambitions. My dreams have always been either sweetly delusional fantasy, or bitterly harsh reality... Surrealist nightmares that stray uncannily close to awkwardly uncomfortable actualities on both sides of the coin... Some too real to ignore...

Whether it just be my painful OCD, or some kind of substance... Or kinky sex? People pleasing someone else's deepest insecurities to sate my own shortcomings as a human? When do I get to be my person instead of being somebody else's? I'm always being chased it seems... Put into somebody's box and being told that I'm their perfect partner... when they don't even know why they want me in the first place... Ask why my authenticity is so attractive to you... Why does my confidence make you so sopping wet? Am I filling the gaps in your own damaged psyche? I can't plug all the holes in the ship dear, you need to grab a bucket and get your own help too... 

No matter what, I have these dirt nasty proclivities. It's literally anything and everything that those fucking Catholic perverts told me I was going to hell for embracing so fervently... I ran straight to it... I craved the profane, shunned the mundane... Desparately needing an escape... I have done, I guess more than once... Fuck! More than thrice even... Now that I think about it with some semblance of intention...

Let's be as real as Gerald will allow... I don't want to hurt you but I need to remain honest... There's always something horridly dishonest, and filthily ick inducing, calling to me in the darkest creases of my meat museum... Even when discovering brilliant sources of light... I tend to make them glimmer somewhat dimmer somehow...

Instead of rose colored glasses, it's more that I'm wearing exceedingly dark welder's goggles, and it's so damned hard to see with all these lights out... Where did my sun go? It's all tiny dimlight twinklers like stars across the night's sky in the boonies... High up above, a shooting star grants my wish and I disappear into the aether, reappear in someone special's bedroom... Because I'm just a horndog, let's be real. I don't love one woman, I love many... I don't think you want me to love anybody else...

I never know how good I actually have it until I decide to push things too far... Boundaries have always been hard for me to set, let alone to respect and follow... I thought I set good boundaries but you seem to have plowed straight through every single one I set... I let you do it, and I know it takes two tango... I'm not upset with you. I also pushed your boundaries with regards to sleeping with other women... 

Truly in the thoughtful talking form and not a physical practical sense... I'm just stating facts at this point... I flirted with your boundaries as such is my precocious, carelessly oblivious, nature... I'm such a silly, salacious scamp. Playing with hearts and minds while I stare dumbfounded at the shiniest, pretty, new thing across the room... Another reason I won't make a good boyfriend...

Blindly, and actively, I'm doing destructive damage to your endlessly dwarfing trust... all the while, I'm dazing, drooling almost... It's like a self-fulfilling prophecy... I hurt you so badly, because you let me... I'm not hurting you by being myself at all... it's not because I'm doing something to you... More that I'd be doing something instead of you... Or someone instead...

I'm aloof... Admiration seeking... feeling so handsome... So Intriguing... Ignoring... Unknowing... or uncaring? ...God I hope not... But that's just Gerald being a basic bitch, bastard bully again... You must  know that I care... Otherwise I wouldn't agonize over absolutely everything so damned much... 

I just don't think I'm ready for the kind of relationship you want. I don't think I ever have been since we've been talking... You've pushed very hard for it and I gave in. I don't think I should have. That was a really big mistake on my part, and I'm so fucking sorry... I got excited, and I shouldn't have let my emotions get the better of me...

You have to know I love you... Don't you? Gerald is a cunt, and that mouse ain't even got a fuckin' house no more... I evicted that som' bitch... He always wriggles his happy ass in through one of my many gaping holes eventually... My love for you isn't going to change based on the fucking label, but I can't be what you want me to be anymore... I can't be this guy for you anymore. It's been me trying to fit myself into your box and that's not fair to me or you... You've been doing the same with me, and we're forcing it way too much...

... I've never lived in such a confusing state of mind, it's been a constant seesaw teetering from ecstasy to fantasy, then rapacity to agony... It's as if I fancy a flight of wax... Too close to that burning, fiery orb of false eternity, my slowly dripping glider descending increasingly... Deluding myself that I've achieved perfect velocity for such a fanciful  fortune...  Diluting myself, as I try to fill too many glasses... Still waiting on that firey crash... I figure it's coming sooner than I thought, as I'm continually making mistakes with my heart and others...

I'm not boyfriend material by any stretch... Not currently at least... You've got to stay true to yourself, and not try so desperately to hold onto someone who is rapidly regressing as a result of being caged... This dirty bird needs to flap its newly sexy wings and sing his heart out Darlin'. 

Truth be told I've known it deep inside for some time, and have repeatedly told you as such from the beginning... You know what I've been believing all along, and I hate to be so painfully fucking transparent with my intentions, but I'm not perfect... I never will be... No matter how much you think I am, or want me to be...

I Do Love You Dearly Darling... But,

-Daddy D is a rollin' stone...

Is this really how today is going to go? Am I supposed to just sit here waiting, not knowing whether you’re actually coming, whether you changed your mind, or whether you were never where you said you’d be in the first place?

I need honesty from you. Not perfection. Not excuses. Just honesty. If you were straightforward with me, I could respond from a place of understanding instead of constantly being left in the dark trying to piece things together on my own. And honestly, being kept in the dark wears a person down. You wouldn’t want to live there either.

The morning is already gone, and deep down I already know how this probably plays out. I’ll get whatever small window of time is convenient for you before you leave for something else, and somehow I’m expected to accept that as enough. It isn’t enough for me anymore.

I can’t keep showing up for someone who only reaches for me when it fits comfortably into their schedule. Relationships even friendships cannot survive when one person carries all the emotional weight while the other contributes the bare minimum and still wants credit for “trying.” Effort is not something you say. It’s something you consistently demonstrate. And if I’m being honest, I haven’t felt that from you in a very long time.

I wanted to believe there was something real here. Part of me still does, which honestly makes this harder than you probably realize. But trust cannot survive inside confusion, avoidance, and half-truths. You cannot build something stable on a foundation that constantly shifts underneath you. Eventually everything collapses from instability alone.

What hurts the most is that every time I try to have an honest conversation about how your actions affect me, it feels like you shut down, change the subject, or treat it like I’m attacking you. Telling you how I feel is not the same thing as accusing you of intentionally hurting me. I’m trying to communicate so we stop repeating the same cycle. But communication only works when both people are willing to actually hear each other.

And maybe that’s the truth I’ve been avoiding: maybe this simply does not matter to you the way it matters to me. Because if it did, I don’t think I would constantly feel this disconnected from someone I care about so deeply.

The truth is, I know very little in the ways that actually matter. I don’t know what truly drives you, what keeps you up at night, what kind of future you really want, what you value at your core. I don’t feel emotionally included in your world. Most of the time it feels like I only get access to you when it’s convenient or necessary for you, while everyone else gets the version of you I kept hoping to experience myself.

And I can’t keep living in that position.

I love you, but I’m reaching the point where I have to love myself enough to stop accepting something that continuously leaves me feeling unwanted, uncertain, and alone. That is not what love is supposed to feel like. I do not want to walk away from you. But I also cannot keep sacrificing my peace just to hold onto someone who seems unsure whether they truly want to hold onto me too.

For far too long I’ve been stuck in this place — hoping, waiting, wanting you to either commit or let me go. Yet you refuse to do either. And whether you realize it or not, that benefits you, not me. That’s convenience. Not love.

And what hurts is I’ve already told you this. Multiple times. So when the same behaviors continue after I’ve explained the damage they cause, what am I supposed to think? At some point actions speak so loudly that words stop meaning anything at all.

You don’t do much that genuinely considers me or my feelings, and I really wish you did. I wish you gave me even the smallest amount of reassurance, consistency, or emotional security needed to feel loved and safe with you. But time and time again, I’ve given you opportunities, chances, and situations to show me through actions instead of words and nothing changes.

Because actions matter. Anybody can speak. Anybody can promise. But character is revealed in follow-through.

You yourself once questioned whether my words matched my intentions. So I proved it. I followed through. I showed consistency. I backed my words with action because I understood why trust matters. I usually do this in life period. Sure there are times mitigating circumstances stop me from it. But what I cannot understand is why the standards you placed on me somehow do not apply to you in return.

What gives?

Why expect accountability, honesty, and effort from me while avoiding those same responsibilities yourself? I genuinely do not understand the contradiction. A lot of your behavior feels backwards to me like things only make sense as long as nobody looks too closely. Like a house of cards that survives by avoiding real scrutiny.

And I need you to understand something clearly: I am not playing games with people’s lives or emotions. I take this seriously. Maybe you should too. Because eventually this kind of behavior catches up to people. When it does and you realize everything you missed out on by being this way maybe then maybe then but probably not. At this point it feels pointless trying to explain myself to you anymore. It’s like when it comes to me, you’ve already closed the door mentally. I could be making perfect sense, but it no longer matters because somewhere along the way you stopped truly hearing me.

Where I thought there was depth, I’m starting to realize there may have only been a shallow surface I romanticized into something bigger. Where I thought there was strength, I now see avoidance. Where I thought there was maturity, I’m beginning to see someone still hiding behind an adult mask instead of facing difficult truths head-on.

I’m not claiming to be perfect. I mess up. I fail. I make mistakes. But when I do, I face them, I correct them, and I grow from them. That’s part of being an adult. That’s part of having integrity.

But you seem to repeat the same destructive patterns without ever truly addressing them. Why? What does that accomplish besides trapping yourself in the same cycle over and over again?

And maybe the hardest question I have to ask myself is this, why am I still here in this repetitive loop with you when I know better?

I think it’s because part of me believed you wanted help getting out of it. Part of me believed there was more beneath all of this. Part of me believed you wanted growth, honesty, depth, and something real.

But I’m starting to realize maybe you’re more comfortable staying in the cycle than escaping it.

And that realization hurts more than anything else.

"Blah blah blah, I'm a lying moron who needs to steal from other people to make myself look important, blah blah blah"

I can't put into words exactly how much I hate you and your ugly ass, deceitful face.

You think I'm just trying to insult you to get under your skin and that I'll come back later so you can attempt to use me and manipulate me again.

I won't. I'd rather choke on a stale saltine until I stop breathing.

I can't stand you. I can't stand the way you speak. I can't stand the way you look. I can't stand the way you smell. I can't stand the way you act. You, quiet literally, make me want to vomit every time I think about you.

Nothing will ever go back to how it used to be.

You may as well leave because I'm going to find a new woman to start a family with. It will never be you. I'll give her all my time, all my magic, all my talents, all my wealth, and all my attention.

The only problem is, I haven't found her yet.

Me and my multigenerational wealth, will never be yours ever again.

Burn in hell, witch.

I wrote down your name and birthday and burned it in my fireplace. I can't do this anymore. We are both hurting eachother.

E,

Yep. I love you, no question about it. I thought the time apart recently would tamp that down, but it just increased it. I will take some steps to keep distance between us, as much as that hurts. I don't want to mess your career up, you've worked hard as hell and I'll be the last person to set you back. I am so proud of you.

Love,

B