And as she gazed at the words, her eyes were drawn to the dates, each representing a passage of time, a chapter in the author's life:
1507
I have never written a letter before.
1508
I don't know what to write.
1509
...
1511
My heart aches.
1512
1514
The ink that flows from my pen cannot possibly convey the depths of my longing, the torment of my regret, and the fierce determination that fuels my every breath.
1516
I must confess, my beloved, that my heart aches with the thought that you may be completely gone from this world. The idea that my own shortcomings may have played a part in driving you away is a burden too heavy to bear.
1516
Your life, so precious and radiant, extinguished because of my flaws—such a reality is a torment that gnaws at my very soul.
1517
I cannot do this.
1518
