Hey,

You often asked me, "What does your heart say?"

My heart wants to say sorry — but this time, it isn't asking for anything. Not another chance. Not forgiveness. No mind games, no hidden motives. Just an honest apology.

I've told you this before: my favorite thing about you is your eyes -your smile is beautiful as well. They house your soul. There's a quiet depth in them — gentle, sincere, and profoundly beautiful. It's an honour to have experienced its presence.

You care about the smallest things. The way you look at the world is thoughtful and kind. You didn't want to involve Sans because she was going through a breakup. You put genuine care into choosing the right gift for your parents. You cared deeply about your friends and me in Mumbai even though you were sick. Your patients at GMC don't smile only because they're strong; they smile because you make them feel warm and seen.

You care — deeply.

Everyone I ever spoke to about Franishca told me the same thing: she's a kind person. That's beautiful, and it's precisely why me texting Sans hurt you. You value the right things — the important, quiet details that most people overlook.

I let my fear and the nightmare of you dying, take control of me. I am truly sorry for making you feel embarrassed and betrayed.

I know you feel things deeply — sometimes so deeply that it leaves you numb. I know you struggle to let people in. I know your feelings aren't a switch; they take time, patience, and safety. I understand you. I see you.

At the end of the day, if you choose to end this, I will respect it. I'll live with the guilt of losing an extraordinary soul because I couldn't manage my anxiety. I know I will never repeat that mistake, but I'll leave the decision of believing me to your heart — not your mind, which I know tends to overthink.

What I felt between us was real, Fran. We made each other feel warm and happy. Your question — "Will it ever end?" — keeps echoing in my head. I know the answer is never. I just don't know how to make you believe that.

I'd be a fool to even attempt trying to buy your love. No one can buy you or your love — it's priceless. All anyone can do is try to be worthy of it. I'm sorry that people in your past failed to recognize how fortunate they were to be loved by you.

PS: Treating you right and watching you smile felt deeply fulfilling. It never felt like an obligation or a performance — it felt like a conscious, beautiful choice. And if you're still learning how to receive love, that's okay. Everything has a beginning.

If there's ever a next time, neither of us drives the car. We throw the keys out. We get out and walk — one step at a time. Touch the grass. Smell the earth. Feel the breeze.

I know you well enough to know you're carrying something heavy. You're strong enough to face it alone — but you don't have to, you are not alone. Slay your demons, but if the blade ever feels too heavy, I am always one call away.