The seat opposite me on this train sits in front of me like a calculating stranger. She stares unblinkingly, like somebody I have failed, like someone who expected so much more of me but ended up disappointed. And I find myself looking out the window just to avoid her gaze, because this cold, smooth leather and these windows are worse than any room full of people I’ve wronged.

“By the time you get this,” I’d written. My own reflection on these words nearly kills me. And my head is throbbing in time with the clack-clack of the train tracks. Everything is lost now, which I’ve only just come to fully understand. I’ve left it all behind. No going back.

By the time you get this, I’ll be on a train to someplace else. I can’t do this anymore. I’ve done everything I possibly could to make it work… We’re both different people than when we met. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I don’t love you, it’s over.
Forgive me.

I weep for all the things I didn’t say.