C,
I need to tell you something that I’ve carried with me for a long time. I have failed you. I know that, and I am deeply sorry. There is no excuse, no distraction, no reason that can make that untrue.
I want you to understand this: I was always going to be a loser in the ways that matter most. I never had the answers I should have had, the strength I wished I could give, or the wisdom I hoped to pass on. I wasn’t the person you deserved.
But I also want you to know this: everything I had, I gave. I tried, harder than I can fully explain, to be enough. Every day, I fought to hold us both together, even when it was clear I was losing. I fell short, but my love for you was not a failure.
I am sorry that my best wasn’t enough. I am sorry for the times I couldn’t protect you from the world—or even from myself. I am sorry for the emptiness you may have felt where I should have been strong.
Please know that my shortcomings do not reflect on you. You are bright, brave, and capable in ways I will never be. My failures are mine alone.
If I could do it over, I would. I would be better, stronger, wiser. But all I can do now is tell you the truth, and hope that you can forgive me—even if it is only in small ways.
I love you, always, even when I am not enough.
With all that I have,
1.7562 Billion Miles 