A letter you can't send, written for one person

One letter for one person, written to be sent or kept. Tell me one person and one true thing about them: the smaller the detail, the better. I write the opening line free within a day, so you hear the voice before you pay. If it lands, the whole letter arrives within 3 days, one revision included. The apology that keeps getting rewritten. The goodbye. The thing you never said out loud. If I cannot hear a letter in what you sent, I say so, nothing moves, and you owe nothing.

You taught me to say 'keep the change' like it was a kindness. I have spent years trying to hand that same kindness back to someone. Starting with you is probably the wrong order. It is the order I have.

There is a version of this letter where I apologize. This is not that one. This is the one where I tell you what I noticed: the way you held the cup with both hands, like it might get up and leave.