I've written this letter in my mind a thousand times. I only hope one day I'll have the courage to speak to you face to face. I miss you terribly, and is there really more I need to say to you? For you, I'm sure the answer is no. For me, there is so much I need to get off my chest.

You haunt my dreams, all of you. What I did was so wrong, and yet so inevitable. And how horrible that you understood that so much better than I. At times I get angry, wishing you had told me what I didn't know. Then I realize that you did tell me, and I was unable to hear. How many times have we heard people say those words: "If only I could do it over." But I can't.

I don't know if it's worse to wonder what you would say to my face, or to know that you would forgive me, unconditionally. You already have, I know. You've forgiven me, and I hope you haven't forgotten me, but you've moved on. I wish I could do the same.

You haunt my dreams. I go to bed thinking of how I'll start the next project at work, or how I'll finish the next one, and I wake up remembering all of you. In my dreams, I see you and all my friends again, and every single one of you welcomes me. I cannot begin to tell you how much I hate that. My life would be so much easier if I knew you despised me, but I know you don't, you can't. Your love for me was always unconditional. Such a tragedy that I thought it was based on my actions, my achievements.

Even knowing you knew my failures, I was unable to admit them. Why was it so difficult? Why was I so afraid of making a mistake, of admitting my humanity? It all could have been so easily avoided. I could have dropped the curtain, up front, and changed everything. I could have changed my life, your lives, the world. I believed it then, and I still believe it now. Only now it's too late.

Or is it? Are my dreams just that? Only dreams? Or is this my second chance? You cannot begin to imagine how much I ache for that to be true. I'd give literally anything for the chance to try again. I've thought about that, about the power of that statement, and I know what it means. I know the pain, the trial it would bring with it, to earn your trust again. But you were the best friend I ever had, and your friends were the best friends I ever had. Even when I left, you wished me well.

You were right - I have made a successful life for myself. I love my work, and I get paid well for it. The opportunities grow daily, to the point that I must decide which projects to accept and which to decline. I never want for money. You told me I could do this, and you told me I could choose. I knew then the choice I would make. I knew then that it was the wrong choice, and I made it anyway.

Is that the end? Can the choice once made be changed?

Yes, I know. I know how difficult it would be to turn back now. Starting again would not be the same as starting over, and it would be so much more difficult this time. But what I want to know is this: do I even have the option?