I know you don't want further intrusion, hence I feel somewhat guilty for writing this. Although, I feel it is healthy to clear the air from time to time, and that's why I'm writing to you now. I feel you deserve an explanation for my actions that isn't hindered by alcohol, 'dutch courage', or any other form of bravado.
When we first spoke around three years ago, that was probably the closest I've ever been to my true self. I would never seek approval from peers, acceptance, nor credit for that which was not due. Unfortunately, I have an addictive personality; if something intrigues me, it often ends up consuming me, and so I let myself slip. I allowed myself to become influenced by my ego, and so I was drawn into a world of my own. I never cared for this 'Cracky' aberration, or anything else so trivial. I set my aspirations far too high, I bid hard and fast, I never walk away from a challenge. I became fascinated with the only thing I felt worthy of attention: you. I was infatuated, but yet mortal. You were but a wisp of fresh air, yet so cold, so far away. I don't know why I felt this way. Deluded perhaps? The mysticism surrounding you certainly helped I guess, I really don't know. I allowed myself to become enthralled to an unnatural point. I violated my own character, the very ethical principles I espouse. I guessed your passwords, the how easily explained, but why? I do not know. As it stands, it was surely the grossest and most evident violation of privacy I can lay claim to, and for this I am ashamed. I am not proud of it, I cannot justify it, I cannot excuse it. I can only mourn the decay of trust and animosity that followed. The same goes for how I bothered you in World of Warcrack the other day - I was driven by my own boredom, I wanted to speak with you directly, to seek confidence, but I wasn't sure how; and when it came to saying what mattered, I ran away. Anyone should be able to enjoy their life without that level of intrusion. Anyone would have reacted with far less tolerance and respect than you showed; and for this I thank you. It really is a credit to your character. Ages ago, wars were fought over women like you, and that is no small compliment.
Really, I've been an enormous dick about the whole thing. Regardless of you take this letter, I want you to know I don't have an ulterior motive, not this time. I have no delusions of grandeur. This isn't some sort of spin to gain your sympathy or trust, this is how I truly feel. I don't want to read your journal. I don't want any undue love or attention. I don't want your photobucket accounts. I don't want to impose myself on you. I do not want, nor do I expect, anything from you that is not given freely. I do believe I have your forgiveness, and that means a lot to me. There is but only one thing I would ask of you: Absolution. Allow me to right the wrong. Trust is not given freely, trust is earned. Let me do this at least. I know this sounds like a selfish request, I would like you to know this is not only for my sake, but also yours. When we first chatted, my heart raced. Conversation wasn't a chore like with everyone else. Believe me, I regret the way things turned out, and I want to set it right so bad, you have no idea.
I really don't know how you feel about this, and I wouldn't want to hazard a guess. I have guessed and presumed what you might want for to long, and have been wrong so many times. At least tell me how you feel. If you would prefer never to see or hear from me again, please tell me. If you hate me to a point where all wrong is beyond repair, I understand, but if there is only one thing to be understood from this letter, let it be this: I am sorry that it came to this, and I want you to know that for my part; all stalking, by whatever means, is over.
This is goodbye, but only if you want it to end this way.