Dear Charlie,

I'm your secret admirer.

I'm the nerdy kid in the back of the class. I doubt you've noticed me.

I think you're cute. And nice.

Anyway. It's your secret admirer. I hope it doesn't stay secret long, though.

I can't believe it's high school already.

When I first saw you last year, I thought we'd only exchange one note. But you found out who I was, and it was the best thing in my life.

Wow. Our two year anniversary. I never thought this would happen.

My family loves you. I do, too. It felt good saying that to you yesterday.

I can't believe college's coming up.

I'll miss you.

I'm glad you got into NYU, but I wish I could be closer.

I'll confess something.

I'm not sure this long distance thing is working out.

I'm not saying I don't love you. But maybe we should take some time apart.

I'll miss you.

It's already been, what, six years? Sure, these last three years we've been taking a break, but...

I can't wait to see you again. I hope we can still make this work.

THIS. DOG. IS. THE. BEST. THING. EVER.

You'll help me raise him, right?

I can't believe you agreed to move in. Parker, the dog, will enjoy being with you. He really likes you.

Happy 21st!

I can't believe you're 21 now. Well, almost. I'll be home tomorrow. Business takes me on the road, but I'll be back for your birthday.

How's Parker?

Miss you. Love you.

The ring is beautiful. I can't believe I'm committing my life to you. I've always wanted to do that.

I'd love to adopt a child. What should we name him? Her?

We clearly have a lot do discuss about this.

Husband.

I can finally call you that.

We get our son tomorrow!

You're a great dad. The name James is great.

No matter what, though, Parker and James are getting along.

Romantic idea:

Drive up to the mountains. Stay there for a day or two. Bring James.

I don't know what happened.

The brakes wouldn't work.

I'm sorry, Charlie. I know you're... I know you won't be able to read this. I don't know. It's closure.

The therapist says I should continue these letters. I guess I will.

Our son is going to be four. I renamed him Charlie Jr.. I miss you, still.

Charlie went to school for the first time. He hated it. I don't know what to do.

I still have nightmares. Of the crash.

I remember my eyes opening, but yours didn't.

Remember how we'd share coffee each morning? I still make two cups. Sometimes I forget that you're gone.

Charlie entered middle school. He loves it so far.

Charlie's 26. He's married. Her name's Anna.

I'm a grandad. His name's Peter Johnson—PJ for short.

I wish he'd known you.

I love you. This is the last letter I'll write. I think I'm fine.

I'll miss you.

Love,
Secret Admirer Quinn