Dear One,
I try not to say fatuous and stupidly optimistic things to you, I try not to soothe with clichés and false promises, but I know, I know that I have been misunderstood. I know that I have said the thing that makes you mad. The thing that dismisses your world, the thing that ignores the obvious.
In the fullness of time, I hope, that maybe it won't matter. Maybe it will turn out to be nothing.