sjsprWriting

To my dearest Hadley,

I write to you before I die, before there is nothing left of me but what I have written. I owe you the world, Hadley, and I wish I would have known it years ago. I have been such a fool. I should have been there and I should have stayed. You married a fine man and I married, and remarried and divorced, and married again. No one was ever as good as you were and I feel remorse and regret. I took advantage that you loved me and I was an asshole, and for that I will forever live with regret. I know I called you a week ago and we talked for a while but I never told you how much you meant to me. I will never forget the way you looked that night in Chicago when I told you to come to Paris with me, or the look on your face when we brought our son home for the first time. Our summers in Pamplona and our four years in Paris were the best times in my life. We were so broke but so in love. Please, Hadley, forgive me. I would take it all back if I could, I would go back decades and fix it all.

Forever yours, Ernest Hemingway