“That’s a beautiful letter,” said Richard.
Caleb noticed the psychologist’s eyes had misted over.
“How did you feel when you were writing it?”
“At first, I was more concerned with what I wanted to write. I sat at the table for ages, thinking about what I most wanted to tell myself. When I had a couple of ideas, I started writing.” Caleb paused. Tears threatened as he cast his mind back to the writing of the letter. “I cried a fair bit while I was writing it.”
“Why?”
“Not really because of the things I was writing, but because I…” He pondered the words to express exactly what he wanted to say. “I got upset because my younger self would never get to read that letter. Because I couldn’t go back and help myself. And I wanted to. More than anything. I could imagine how that little bit of a
