Dear Susan,

I know it’s been forty-five years. You’ve probably been hoping I was dead, or worse, much of that time. Who could blame you? I just want to apologize—I’ve always wanted to apologize—for the way I mishandled things back then. I caused you grievous emotional pain and suffering, and I’ve never been able to forget it.

I want you to know that we almost certainly would not have had a successful long-term marriage anyway. I was too absorbed in the beauty and allure of women and had to have as many as I could, something I did not know about myself when we married. Twenty-one is very young to marry, though it was not unusual in 1961. You were escaping your dreadful father, and I was off to graduate school with a pretty young wife in tow, working to support me. I did not realize that I could actually have other women besides you, and when I discovered it, I could not turn it down. I betrayed you and refused to talk about it and left you in the lurch. I think it was unforgivable and don’t expect your forgiveness. I don’t know what I expect.

After several girlfriends, I went on to have a total of four marriages and one common-law, though the last one has lasted twenty-three years so far. I just had to grow up, I guess. That is no excuse. But I think you may be glad to know that you were well rid of me at twenty-five, knowing what was to come. Again, I am very sorry I hurt you and I am full of remorse over not having handled the situation with more care for your feelings. I hope that your life after me was reasonably happy with children and a loving husband; so much more than you got from me.

Sincerely,

Ralph, age 69