Dear Aletta,

Is it too soon to say I hate you? I don't know why I keep writing these dumb letters but I guess I just have things to say to you still. 

I hate you is one of them.

I'm sorry is another. 

Gods that sounds so crisfing dramatic. Or cheesy. You've rubbed off on me I guess. 

When you left I know I said I was glad to see you go but I didn't really mean it. I shouldn't have said that in the first place. I was hurting and I wanted you to hurt to but it still wasn't my place. And even if it was, I shouldn't have said it. You've been hurt a lot already and I don't want to be another person who hurts you, even if you hurt me. Sometimes I can't help but think I deserve the pain or something. 

I miss you. Come back to me please. Gods. I hope these letters get lost in the mail. They're stupid embarassing and I always seem to say far too much to you in these. Everything I write is something I should've said to you though and I can't bring myself to regret it even if you get this letter. Everyone knows international mail is one of the most unreliable services offered by the post. Hopefully that'll change someday. 

I have to go send this before I change my mind. I still love you.  Maybe I shouldn't have. 

All my love,  Sincerely,

Jack