While setting out for his daily four mile run down the beach, he had only one thing on his mind; to complete the run as he always did every morning. He normally told people that he did it to keep fit but deep inside; he alone knew the real reason. Dressed in a black tank top, shorts and running shoes, he began the run slowly at first building up a consistency that he would apply throughout the run till the end.
Halfway into the run, he stepped on the ground and heard glass shattering. He hadn’t seen it, so he cursed silently that he had let his mind wander off again to the same thoughts he tried to run from every morning. Looking down he saw he had stepped on a bottle. As he bent down to inspect, he noticed a neatly folded piece of paper lying near the bench with shards of broken glass around it by the sidewalk.
He was torn between continuing on his run and finding out what the paper might be. He continued running but few steps forward and he found himself turning back. He picked up the paper and discovered it had writing on it. He held it up and discovered it was a note dated only yesterday. So he read;
It has been 3 weeks since you left and I blame myself.
I shouldn’t have acted the way I did and I am sorry.
I find myself wishing every night that I had done things differently
but it is done and I can only try o move forward.
Please come back because home doesn’t feel like home without you anymore.
I am sorry.
He had tears in his eyes when he finished reading. His name was Patrick and her name was Kayla but this wasn’t from her. It had been 500 days since they fought and he never got the chance to say he was sorry for she died 11 days later. This wasn’t his and he wished he knew who it was for so he could help give it back.