A LETTER FROM A TROUBLED SOUL Sammi Cox
To the Kind and Patient person who opens this, I'm sorry, I don't know your name. You don't know who I am either. In truth, that is why I chose to send this letter to you. I thought it would be easier to write; opening my heart to a stranger. However, as my words begin to flow across the page, I realise that I was wrong. It is a much more difficult, agonising task than I could ever have imagined. I suppose, before we go any further, I should explain a few things. "Why am I sending you this letter?" and "What is the purpose of it?" are no doubt the questions at the forefront of your mind. So, without further ado, I shall try as best as I can to explain and hope that my words are enough to convince you to read until the end. Please do not judge me too harshly or prematurely, for it is with a heavy heart and troubled mind that I feel moved to put such thoughts on paper and offer them to a stranger. I chose your house at random. I drove up and down streets looking for the right one to post this to. I know it sounds foolish, but when I saw your home, I got the feeling that good, kind people lived within, and that perhaps you would not mind receiving a letter such as this. That you would take the time to read it before you threw it away. I hope that I'm right. It calms me to think that someone full of compassion might see my words and know that for once I tried to say sorry. It doesn't matter that you don't know who I am or what I am saying sorry for. I suppose what I am trying to say is that all that matters is that you know I tried. As to the purpose of this letter? That is a little harder to explain. An act of confession perhaps? The first steps towards redemption? They both sound like such grand concepts, as if this letter could possibly have a noble purpose. Alas, that is not the case. I wish it were. I fear my reasons are too selfish and I too craven for such high moral notions. All I am looking for is a little respite from that which torments me: I know I have done wrong.