A Letter Never Sent
- By Tom Hurst

Dear L,

I am sorry.

These words have hung on the tip of my tongue for seven years, seven years since I abandoned you to the wolves, seven years since I sacrificed our friendship in a vain attempt to protect myself.

It failed.

And perhaps, that is the world's karmic intervention, but as far as I'm concerned, It is not enough. No punishment could be enough. I threw away our friendship - possibly the best friendship I've ever had.

And my pathetic explanation, my futile attempt to explain away the guilt that still haunts me?

They thought we were gay.

It seems ironic that in those seven years since I have gradually come to terms with the fact that I am gay.

It haunts me still that I can’t remember where you live, or your phone number, or even your last name. That means I will never have the chance to apologise for abandoning our friendship.

I hope that you have also forgotten my name, address, and number. I hope that to you, our friendship has faded, nothing more than a footnote in your life.

I used to see you walking through town, but I never had the courage to speak to you, to apologise, to maybe attempt to rekindle the long dead flames of our friendship.

I didn't.

I don't see you walking through town anymore. I can barely remember what you look like, and I hope that you have forgotten what I look like. I hope, that from the death of our friendship, you have built better friendships with people who won't abandon you to try and make their lives easier.

Just know that I am sorry.



Tom Hurst

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