My dear Mary,

I read your words by lantern light, each line cutting deep. You’re right: I bring a storm everywhere I ride, and I let its rain fall on you. For that I’m sorrier than any outlaw can say.

You speak of the giant inside me. He’s still winning most days, though I keep swinging. I hoped you’d see the better man; instead you saw the fight. I understand why you must leave it behind.

The ring - bless you for sending it. I won’t pawn it. I’ll carry it until I find two young fools as hopeful as we once were, and I’ll pass it on in your name. Maybe that will be my one clean deed.

You ask me to let you go. I do. Ride toward sunlight, dream soft dreams, grow old far from gun smoke and regret. If ever you think of me, remember the fool who carved your initials into an oak, and botched them, laughing till dusk.

Thank you for loving me longer than I deserved.

Good-bye, Mary. Be happy.

Arthur

SignedF

ezzakam