Perhaps you can write to me.

My self posession flares up for a second;

This is as I had reckoned.

Dear Connor,

I miss you.

Is that too cliche to start? Because it's true. The new leader is different, nice, but different. I guess I'm a bit biased. Arnold likes him, but then again, Arnold likes everybody.

I know you had to leave when you did, and it's not your fault, but I still blame myself sometimes.

Maybe if I hadn't been involved in the whole thing you would still be here. I'm sorry.

He's in your room. The new elder I mean. I remember those nights when I'd silently join you and we'd just sit, together. We didn't need to say anything, the words weren't important.

His name's Elder Elliot. I know. It's stupid. Well, not really but forgive me for trying to find things wrong with him.

He's actually a pretty good leader if I'm honest. He's not you of course, but he's ok.

You've been away for ages and I haven't heard anything. It's ok for you to write you know. You can write more than once a month if you want, or at all, just anything. We haven't moved. The address is still the same.

I need to see you again, I'm forgetting your face.

All my love,

Kevin.

Dear Kevin,

I'm sorry for not writing sooner. There are some things I need to forget and I've been thinking about it a long time. Those things are Uganda and, well, you.

It wasn't easy to come home from my mission early. I was pretty much an outcast among my own family.

It's not your fault, but I still sometimes wonder if maybe we'd never happened, I would still be there.

I should've learned to keep my mouth shut. I always knew there was a reason for keeping the feelings inside, and I guess this is it. Excommunication from the church for tempting one of my missionaries into sin. I took the blame, I don't mind. I didn't want to ruin your life as well when just one would satisfy them.

So don't write anymore Kevin. It's hard I know but just forget me and I'm going to try my best to forget you.

I'm going to disappear from your life. Please don't come looking for me.

Yours,

Connor