I don’t drink anymore. Otherwise, I’d share my mind. I wouldn’t dare express anger or bitterness at the sinkhole you once occupied—rather an unfortunate disappointment. Did you know they chopped down the cherry tree we carved our initials in? Or that the pair of saplings we planted in my backyard have grown tall? Funny how things change, how you changed into something unrecognizable. I shutter at what I can’t comprehend. Seeing the lines of scabs on your back, of what she did, I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry. But you’re gone now, so who’ll listen to the lamenting I do? I better go. I’m not in the best headspace; my regrets are many, and you’ll never know how much I loved you.