Regrets?

My dearest love,

I am writing to you knowing that you are unlikely to read this wherever you are in the afterlife, but you can't say I didn't try. I write for three reasons:

1. An Apology.

2. A promise.

3. A warning.

First, I want to say that I'm "so very sorry" that when you fell and hit your head on the stone steps at the lake cabin, that I didn't run to you. I don't even know if I could have helped you, but I should have tried. That came back to bite me. Somehow, it got out that you died there, so I couldn't sell the cabin like I wanted to. I didn't even get one offer.

Second, I promise that I will never forget you. I took you for granted when I should have cherished our time together. I thought I could move on, but I can't stop thinking about you. A couple of times, I could swear I felt your presence at the cabin, but ghosts aren't real, are they?

Lastly, my first two points are bullshit to catch your attention, you BITCH! I'm going to burn down this damned cabin with your ghost in it. I'll sell the land and never set foot in your freezing, unforgiving, land-that-time-forgot state of Minnesota. Goodbye and good riddance. If you want to haunt me, good luck finding me in Texas.

Your happy-to-see-you-gone former husband,

Todd

This was written for the unofficial challenge, "Tales From Beyond..." linked here:

...and this is the story of how Todd got in this predicament: