Dear Abby:

By the time you read this letter, Luka should be safe in America and you will probably be wondering why I'm not with him. Before you go blaming yourself let me just say, it's not you, it's me - and I know even as I write this that you're going to think that's a breakup cliché, but if you could just try and hold back your judgment - and your condemnation - for a minute, maybe you will actually be able to understand what I'm trying to say. Being here has changed me in ways I never imagined. It put everything in perspective. County, Gamma's death, you. Well, me and you. We just had to work so hard at everything. Too hard, you know? When I think back on our last year together, everything appears hazy, muddled. And in the Congo, everything is very clear. People are suffering. I can help them. They need me. In a way that you don't.

You're much stronger than you think. You don't need me, Abby, and I don't think you ever really did. We both know we would work better unfettered. I think that at one point you convinced yourself that I was the right guy for you - reliable and safe, and I don't know, stable - but I don't think that that's what you really want. When we were just friends, it was safe. Maybe we even put each other on pedestals, I don't know. And then when we were finally together, it didn't become what either of us thought it would be. I didn't end up being what you expected, and you didn't end up being…sorry, I'm rambling.

I gave you as much as I could, but it wasn't enough. Clearly, there were a lot of things going on in your life that were more important, understandably. Eric's disease, your mother. Your life is complicated, and I didn't fit into that mix very well, did I? I tried to help, but then when I needed you…I don't know.

The light is dying. I don't want to waste any more kerosene.

I don't know how long I'm going to end up staying here. Don't wait for me.

I also want to say thank you. You are still one of the most amazing people I know.

Love,
Carter