Dear Sarah,
I've been trying to write this letter for a while now. The kind you sad you'd never received. The kind I've been working on my whole life.
I remember being thirteen years old, sitting in my room all night, listening to the same song over and over. I thought that if I could write something beautiful, something honest, maybe I could make someone love me.
I've taken a lot for granted. I've never tried too hard. I've always avoided responsibility. I came here because I was running away. I wanted to be alone, instead, I met you. I met you and you weren't taking anything for granted.
So, I hope you get all the moments you deserve. I hope you go back to New York and sit in a mat in the room with the paintings of the Hudson River. And I hope when you do, you take Lucy with you, because I know she would love it.
I'm sorry if I've made your life more complicated. I'm sorry for a lot of things, but most of all, I'm sorry I never go the chance to tell you, "No matter what happens next, I'll never be anything but grateful for ever moment I spent with you." And even though I'm fumbling for the right words, what I really wanted to say was "thank you."
I totally teared up. I put my favorite line in bold.
