Dear Emily,
If you're reading this, it means I actually worked up the courage to send it. I hope you're proud of me. You're smiling at this letter right now, I already know. You don't know me as well as you think, and that's my fault. I don't say much outside of the cases, but that's not out of a lack of feeling, but a sense of professionalism. This is, by far, the hardest thing I have ever had to write. There is no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it: I met someone. It was an accident. I wasn't looking for it. She said one thing, I said one thing and the next thing I knew I wanted to spend my life in the middle of that conversation. It was the perfect storm. Now there is this feeling in my gut that she might be the one.
She is you, Emily. That's the good news. The bad news is that I don't know how to be with you right now, and that scares the shit out of me. We have seen the way this world truly words, and if I'm not with you right now, I fear we will both get lost in this world. It's full of twists and turns and people have a habit of blinking and missing the most important moments. The moments that could have changed everything. We had a lot of those moments, Emily.
I don't know what is going on with us, with you on the other side of the world, and maybe more importantly, I don't know what's going on with you and anyone else. But damn, you smell good, like home and you make excellent coffee that has to count for something, right?
Call me.
Faithfully yours, Aaron.