Dear Emma,
Sorry for the sloppy handwriting. I'm kind of rushing all these letters for you. I hope you got all of them; they're about twenty-one letters, including this one.
Anyway, I don't really know how to write this out because I can't properly convey my feelings in words. It would be better if I showed you, but I guess I can't do that anymore.
I'm having mixed emotions, that's probably what I'm trying to say.
I'm scared. Scared of losing you.
I'm angry. Angry at myself for telling you I don't care about you.
I'm happy. Happy that you're reading this. It means you're alive.
I'm sad. Sad that I had to leave you (and my mum, but that's a different story).
But let's just talk about that some other time. What I really want to tell you is- don't try to look for me. It's... well, ju
