Dear Mal,

I could tell you this, but it would be unfair. I want you to live your life. But part of me selfishly hopes you don't. And all of me hopes our silly promise from 2011 hasn't expired. "If we're still single at 40, we'll get hitched." So dumb. I'm dumb, for letting you run off with my heart and barely talking to you in the 15 years since. Seeing you at K&M's wedding was a gut punch.

If the seat next to you is still free when I'm done with this shitty phase of my life, I'm sitting in it. And I'm giving you everything I wish I'd been giving you for the last decade and a half. And I'm marrying you whether we're 40 or not.

Thanks for waiting for me, if you did. I never stopped thinking about you.