There’s a sick feeling in my stomach and a knot in my throat. My head throbs and I can’t eat. Falling asleep is impossible sometimes. We both screwed up and I’m deeply sorry for my part.  Are you suffering without me as much as I am without you?  Can we try again? L.C.

For all sad words
of tongue and pen,
the saddest are those
‘It might have been.’
John Greenleaf Whittier