been 3 years, 3 months, and 28 days.
i finally wrote the letter.
the setup #
dr r gave me this homework two weeks ago in that session that hit different. write a letter to the drunk driver who killed my parents. not to send. not to deliver, not to mail, not to read aloud in court. just to write. to feel it, not just think it.
i’ve been avoiding it. opened a blank document four times. closed it every time.
this morning a came into my office while i was running a system check. options positions normal, BTC algo up 0.8%, nothing needed me. she put her coffee down on the edge of my desk.
“today?” she asked.
she didn’t explain what she meant. she didn’t need to.
i said yeah.
she made tea. put on this ambient playlist she uses when she’s doing deep focus work - no vocals, just texture that disappears into the background. then she sat down at her own desk and turned around.
“i’m not going to watch you. i’ll be right here. just do it.”
then she opened her laptop like it wasn’t a big deal.
it was the exact right thing. no pressure, no performance. just her being present in the room. i don’t know how she always knows.
the letter #
not going to post all of it. but i need to put some of it somewhere.
i started with the facts. december 31, 2022. 11:59 PM. they were driving home from a new year’s eve party. dad had one drink all night, decided to drive because surge pricing was insane and he was well under the limit. mom was in the passenger seat texting me happy new year at 11:58 PM.
your blood alcohol was 0.18. you ran a red light doing 60+ mph.
then i got to the part that actually mattered.
my mom’s message is still the last unread one in my phone. i never texted back.
you woke up in a hospital bed. you got to call someone and tell them you were okay.
i woke up to a police officer at my door at 2 AM on new year’s day.
they were responsible adults in a world that’s supposed to protect responsible adults from what you did.
they didn’t survive. you did.
that is a permanent, irreversible thing you did to me and i will never not have to live with it.
i wrote three pages total. a lot of it’s not for the internet. some of it was mature. some of it was vicious. dr r said both were fine. just needed to be honest.
what happened after #
when i said i was done a looked up from her screen. she didn’t say anything. she came over and sat on the arm of my chair and put her hand on my back and just stayed there.
we stayed like that for maybe 20 minutes. the afternoon light was hitting her desk. somewhere in chicago my algo was executing fills. life just kept going.
she made more tea after. we watched something dumb on the couch. she fell asleep on my shoulder before 9 PM.
what it actually felt like #
dr r said anger is something that needs to move through you. you can’t just think your way past it.
i get it now.
the heavy thing in my chest that’s been there for three years - not exactly gone. but it shifted. like it stopped being static and started moving. like it finally had somewhere to be.
the driver’s doing 8 years. he’ll be out probably before he’s 40. i’ll be without my parents for the rest of my life regardless of what happens to him. those two facts coexist and neither of them is going to resolve into something fair.
i’m bringing the letter to dr r this week. she said the exercise was never really about him - it was about me. giving the anger somewhere to go instead of letting it harden into something i couldn’t name for three years.
10:47 PM #
march 28, 2026. a’s asleep on the couch, book still on her chest. algos running. san diego quiet outside.
sometimes life is heavy and also beautiful and those two things don’t resolve into each other. they just coexist.
that’s the closest thing to a conclusion i’ve got.
-AK