Erin had been in her house packing up the last of her essentials. The new apartment she was lent had been working out well, and sadly for everyone involved, she had to close up the Manor, at least until this time passed.

The knock on the door scared her, and she put down the perfume bottle she was holding to move through her bedroom and down the stairs into the hall. Using the peep hole at first, she presse her hands against the door and waited a moment.

The messenger there looked harmless enough. A hand reding on the small of her back where her Colt was tucked into her jeans, she pulled the door open with a smile.

"Hi, what can I do for you?"

Erin took the letter and stared at it perhaps longer than she should have. The nod and smile to the messenger game a little late, and perhaps he hadd turned aside before she had. With a purse of lips she stepped back from the door and into the hall once more.

She shut the door with a faint click and heade straight back into her kitchen. The letter was placed on top of the counter as she got out a bottle of wine and popped the cork. Pouring herself a healthy measure, she stood at the counter and ripped teh envelope open.

Erin was careful as she peeked inside to look for paper. She breathed a bit heavy. This was a problem she had been ignoring lately. It wasn't as imperative as her freedom or her life. But, clearly, that wasn't fair.

And now she had to face it. Sipping at her wine, she steeled herself and went on to read.

Erin pursed her lips and sipped from her glass. Having read it two, three times in a row, she folded the paper up and slid it back into the envelope. She opened a drawer in the kitchen, and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. Running her fingers over the paper a few times, she debated what it was she wanted to write.

After a long sigh, she rolled her head back to stare at the ceiling. She had been avoiding Lydia, sure, but the reasons were too complicated and numerous to even think of putting into consise words. And she sure didn't want to write a novel.

The pen placed back on the counter, Erin paced for a moment through her kitchen. It was clean, too clean-- as her whole house was now that she was packing it up for what would be an undisclosed amount of time. Her bottom lip was being worried, and honestly was getting a bit bloody. There was too much to consider lately. She was unable to deal with it all.

And that gave her at least her first idea.

The scribbling commenced-- something less eloquant than normal, but recent days had taken a toll on her handwriting among other things. Erin stood hunched over the counter as she wrote, something abnormal for her. Writing was usually cathartic and something she could relax and enjoy. A simple time to be herself. It had all been so complicated lately, that she had shunned from the entire activity.

That had worked just great. Peachy, actually.

It didn't take her long to scribble out what she wanted to. And when she was done, she folded the paper and stuck it in the back pocket of her jeans. A bit of a shuffle, and she left the kitchen to go back to finishing her pack.

Strangely, she didn't really feel any better...

The slant of her letters were off from the standing and the ink was not the usual fluid mark of a fountain pen, but a pencil. The graphite was smeared in placed where her hand brushed over the letters too soon. Perhaps it would be surprising that it was only a single piece of paper, given the verboseness of the Englishwoman when it came to the written word. But it was what it was.



Lydia,

I am not punishing you. At first, and perhaps still, I was hurt and embarrassed by the turn in our relationship. I was mad that you chose such a public place to make such a monumental decision, or at least make me aware of it. You didn't give me the place or the time to really decide how I felt and let you know, and in that regard, I felt like you were controlling the entire situation and dictating to me. It made me perhaps more resentful than was warranted at the time.

I'm not sure what I want. I am dreadfully lonely and could use a friend, especially you, but I know it is unfair to unburden myself on someone wholly unwilling to do the same back. I cannot continue to open myself up to you, and be met with a brick wall on the other side. I feel like you don't trust me, and it hurts. I know that I have made dreadful judgement calls in the past, but mostly it's because I cannot read your mind and clearly am bad at trying to anticipate it.

I guess my signals have been mixed, but I was unsure exactly what you wanted from me after we spoke. I left the water not too long ago, and you didn't even make a move to touch it. I was unsure where you stood as well as unsure where I stood and clearly that has left us at a much worse point than we were at.

Lately I have been dealing with all measure of problems by avoiding them, and it is unfair, I know. As things heated up with Anubis, I figured I would just cut you out entirely for the time being in hopes to keep you out of the fray. Part of me felt that if I could keep as many of the people close to me as far away as possible, that perhaps things would be better or easier. It seems I have forgotten your feelings in the meantime.

I'm not going to try and explain all the complicated situations, emotions, feelings and obstacles I'm currently trying to face right now. It would make little sense and not be fair. You were right when you said we do not know each other anymore, and part of me feels that if we didn't spend so much time shielding each other from the burden of the other's life, perhaps things would be much easier.

I'd like to sit down and talk. As you may have read in the paper, I'm no longer living at the Manor. It would be hard for you to drop by unannounced, as I'm currently under the protection of G'Nort. I'd like to have lunch, at the very least, sometime soon.

I'm sorry you were completely shut out, and know that it is not all about you, but very much about me.

E.