Hey Jim. Long time no talk, huh?
I know it kind of comes out of left field, this email, but...I don't know. I wanted to talk to you—apologize to you, mostly, for acting the way I did and being the way I am. (I promise I'm not on a 12-step program or anything, and I'm not being forced to write you. I just thought it'd be nice.) And rather than call or text or send a telegram, I figured the best way was by email. You know, so you could absorb shit and not feel obligated to ever respond, in case you didn't want to. And maybe this email is mostly for me because it's not fair or right that I'd write you and disturb whatever you've got going on right now. So. I'm sorry for this, too.
But I miss you. Not in the kind of way I guess someone would miss an old lover, but I miss your friendship and your presence and everything that came along with it. I miss Chubs. I miss your fucking car and getting to ride in the passenger seat and just looking over at you and knowing
that you were content in that very moment. I miss our walkie talkies. I miss knowing that I could talk to you about anything at any time because you were always there for me. You were my person. And I fucking miss you.
Sometimes, though, I don't feel like I deserve to miss you—not after what I did. I know it wasn't a big deal at the time and that we could have easily moved past the whole "we can be exclusive or not" conversation, and I'm fucking sorry that I freaked out and abandoned you instead. I don't have a lot of regrets in life, but that will always be one. Losing you, even as a friend.
I really do hope you've found what you've been looking for. I hope that home still feels like home, and I hope that the next time you're in the city, you give me a call because I would really, really, really
love to see you and know how you've been. But if you don't, I completely understand. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry, that I miss you, that I'll always care about you.