The reason why it didn't work out was because you were my George O'Malley.  The 'what-if' that I took a chance on.  And our interactions with each other now feels a little off.

I got my hands on Lucy's book and there's a sense of deja vu about it - it's echoing a lot of the things I think about myself.  

The distraction's back.  I'm convinced that it's because it's July.  There are certain months I'm more antsy than others.  And July, in particular, is the worst of the lot.  I wonder if you've read the email.  I think about how you could have felt about it.  I imagine how I'd react if you told me you deleted it without even reading it.  Can it be any more obvious?

Thoughts about how it'd look if it was 

flayed open from elbow to wrist.