To: Mel Fuller <firstname.lastname@example.org>
From: Aaron Spender <email@example.com>
Subject: Forgive Me
I don’t know where to begin. First of all, I can’t stand this. You ask what this is.
I’ll tell you: this is sitting here all day, seeing you there in your cubicle, knowing that you said never want to speak to me again.
This is watching you walk towards me, thinking you might have changed your mind, only to have you pass by without so much as even glancing in my direction.
This is knowing that you’ll walk out of here at the end of the day, that I will have no idea where you will be, what you will do, and that an abyss of time will elapse before you walk back in here the next day.
This–or should I say, these?–are the countless, uncountable hours during which my mind leaves me, and pursues you out the door, following you in an imaginative journey that leads nowhere, right back where I started, sitting here thinking about this.