To Helen Back,
I am so sorry. I was horrible. I never laid a hand on you but my words clearly inflicted permanent damage. I was too afraid of the world discovering that I was a fake. You knew, and you were correct to rebuke my advances. The lies in my final letter were meant to stab at you from the other side. A life for a life, and it seemed to be far more effective than I ever could have imagined. The world believed every word, and left you a broken shell that used to radiate everything I envied. My entire existence is now an endless cycle of being too hot and too cold, all at once, forever. I have committed my stay in eternity to righting that wrong, and somehow getting you to forgive me, one letter at a time, no matter how long it takes. Seeing you eventually overcome the weight of those accusations is my goal. Once again witnessing the confident, glowing, irrepressible center of light that I couldn’t live without would be as close as I will ever get to forgiveness.
Sincerely,
Roger
Roger addresses the envelope, attaches postage, and places the letter into the mailbox.
Helen sifts through her mail and comes across a blank envelope. Inside is a blank piece of paper. She adds it to the basket with the others. Helen does not know why she receives them, why she keeps them, or why she looks forward to them every single day.
