Dearest,

First and foremost, allow me to apologise for my handwriting. I seem to cannot stop my hands from shaking. Just the thought of you reading this, the consequence and graveness of it, makes me nervous, makes me hurt like never before.

Second, I candidly ask of you to make it through the entire letter without thrashing it. Of course, I know you are furious at me, you should even hate me, but I just want you to read it all. You do not have to answer if you do not have anything to say to me. Just read it, and, I suppose, think about it.

I know we split up and that you are probably still too mad at me, but I just want you to know that I still think about you.

Every day. All day.

Maybe you have moved on, though, and I am still hanging on like the love-starved fool I have always been. I ask you to understand, however, that I had a valid reason for all of it, my stupidity.

I never quite understood how someone so perfect like you could be with someone like me. Was it my fame? Was it my fortune? Did you need someone to listen to you and you found me by chance? Or did you plan it all? Just so you could have the foothold in Hollywood you have always wanted?

To an outsider, this may seem all your fault, but, of course, it is more than proved that it is not the case and we both know it. I was the one who was out of their depth, the one who was not ready to live what you offered me.

Why did that happen, you want to know. Because you are you, and I am me. You are the girl everyone looks at when they walk into a room, every head turns in your direction, the world stops and stares at your beauty. I am me. I am the boy who did not know what to love was.

You taught me, what love is, I mean, like many other things, that baby steps are a great way to start. We did not start slow, though. We were more like gigantic steps, tsunami tides. We were ready to fuck on my balcony the very night we met, for Christ's sakes.

I am the boy that always looked up to people who shone, who had that special light about them, and you shone, darling, like no other before, and no star will ever replace you to me.

Just thinking about you made me break into a smile, made my eyes shine, or that is what my friends told me. Yet, I was the one who ruined this when I still hung on to my fears and insecurities and toxic relationships, and you had already let go of yours, you were ready and inviting all for me, long before we broke up.

I miss you, but I understand that we will not be together ever again. Because of what happened. Who would have thought that I would be the one to ruin this? You, it would have been perfectly understandable. Maybe you needed more than what I had to offer (not that I offered you much), or I just was not on your level.

I was the one who made a terrible mistake, not you. Never you. I would give anything to have you back, to gain your forgiveness. I know now that, even if you do forgive me, no matter what I do, I'll never fully have you back, gain your trust again completely. Naturally.

Do I regret it? Of course I do. Would I go back in time and change it? Of course I would.

But that is not what I want to say. I am writing this letter to ask for your forgiveness. I want you back, and I am desperate. There are nights when I am cold and alone, and I realize that I have never felt pain this acute, that hurts so much. Because it is true, nothing hurts like no you. Living without you is the worst kind of pain I will ever feel.

Every man, woman and child in America knows about us, what we did, but no one understands what we went through. No one understands why we did it. It was short. It was sweet.

We gave in to that all-encompassing feeling, but sometimes, no matter how strong it was, that alone cannot hold two people together. I just want you to know that, no matter what happens, I will always love you.

Do you remember that time when we went for dinner, at that fancy-schmancy sushi joint? Do you remember what you told me as we stepped out of the restaurant, sarcastically commenting how sated we were?

"I can't believe how glad I am that I met you."

That is exactly what I am feeling right now. I am so glad I got to know you, got to meet the real you, as much as I am glad that you met the real me, even the wretched parts.

I am torn between letting you go and wanting you back. Sometimes I think it will be better if I erased every and all ways I could possibly contact you and forgot all about you, but there are times when those thoughts suffocate me, make me want to cry, and I decide that I will never be able to do that, give you up completely.

That is when I feel this overwhelming urge to hold you and kiss you and tell you everything is going to be okay. That is when I decide I will fight for you, that I'd go to hell and back just to get another day with you.

Now, I am sitting here. My hands are shaking so bad it is difficult to hold the pen. Tears are welling in my eyes; I am finding it hard to see through the blur.

What should I do? I can let you go or I can fight for you, but what would I gain if I did the latter? Half of you, because I know I will never fully gain your trust back, that you will always be wary of me, like I was of you.

If I did the former? I could finally move on and start a new life with someone else, but I would always have you in the back of my mind. I will always be thinking about the what ifs.

I write this letter with the conviction I choose to let go of you, to let you go. I do not know if I will regret this all my life, in the near future or never. I want you to know, though, that I think this is for the best. I will be okay, as long as I know you are okay.

Best wishes.