::harrison's letter::
Dear Sam,
As I write you this e-mail, I would first like to set the stage. Looking out my prison window, it's beautiful outside. Sunny. 75. You know, typical L.A. December. I wish I could go outside and run around.
But I can't. 'Cause I'm dying.
"I wish" is a phrase I'm tossing around a lot these days. I wish I could hold you when life is hard and no one seems to understand. I wish I had told you the truth about how I feel about you when I had the chance.
I love you.
I love you.
Right about now you're laughing, smiling your sweet Sammy smile 'cause you think I'm joking. But I'm not. I regret never telling you in the moment how I felt, but I didn't have the nerve. I was afraid you wouldn't love me back. And that'd kill me.
But I'm gonna die anyway, right? And I don't wanna go to my grave without telling you how I feel.
I love you Sam. I know this much is true.
Harrison
Thanks to Simply Popular
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