Ten things I want to say to ten different people right now (in no particular order):
I didn't quit on a whim or because I'm against you. You made it impossible for me to stay. You've lost the light.
I bet you're having a nice time. You are okay in your lives and I am okay in mine.
I hope you're happy, but I bet you're miserable. Actually, I don't really hope you're happy.
I fully intend to pay you back. It's twelve years later and I still don't have the money. Sorry.
I would be shit scared to live my life without you in it.
With the exception of that one thing at which you are unusually talented, the sex wasn't that good. I do sometimes miss that one thing, though.
You're a rattlesnake of a human being, so small and mean, I'm amazed that anyone will talk to you.
I hate to prognosticate, but I think what we're doing is going to succeed beyond our wildest dreams.
I often wonder what happened to you. I wish we'd kept the conversation going.
I stopped writing because you criticized me. I guess I needed our correspondence to be a critique-free zone. Yes, what I said was maybe too cynical. I didn't have my head screwed on right.