The letter was laying there on his dresser. But this wasn't just an ordinary letter, it was something bad. James sat facing away from his dresser just to get it out of his sight. It made him nervous. He knew it was something bad, but he didn't know how he knew. And this wasn't just some ordinary letter, it seemed to have this supernatural ability to always be in his line of sight. Right now he could see it in the reflection of the blank tv screen. Brilliant white like reflective tape in direct sunlight. James scrawled in the thick line of a sharpie pen. This was on top of a stack of previous letters, all of which had his name delicately penned in fancy handwriting. She liked to use calligraphy and even tried to teach him once. He picked up a lighter and clicked the flame on and off, contemplating burning the letter. But that wouldn't help his situation. He picked up the phone and got six digits into her number before he hung up. There really was only one real solution, and all he was doing was stalling. But James knew what he was stalling. He knew that even the wracked, stressed, tense feeling inside would be nothing compared to what he would feel after reading whatever the letter said. Or maybe he was wrong. He picked up the letter hastily, nearly completely tricking himself into believing for an instant that the letter could be something other than bad. Diving headlong into ripping the envelope open he unfolded the page and began scanning the lines:

"I don't believe you when you say you'd do anything for me and risk anything for me. I think your a liar. I don't beleive it I think your too scared to take a step or a leap of faith. I think you'd be ready to let go if I said so and I think that you are just to weak to do it yourself. Your too scared and you won't risk anything for me because you are afraid of getting hurt again, of getting rejected again. And I can't take it anymore I can't take wondering and I can't take your hope for the future and I can't take you. I can't take that you don't have enough faith in us. Whens the last time you did something really really nice for me? Whens the last tiem I really really felt that you cared, that you did something totally out of the blue and made me feel special?

I can't even remember.

So I say to you: fuck off. If your not ready to be who you say you are then I don't want to talk to you ever agian."

The letter hit the floor at the same time as the first tear did.