Dear Ziva, we could’ve had a life together, all of it, the whole thing. A marriage, some children, however many we wanted. A life. I wanted a life with you. I should’ve told you earlier, I should’ve stopped and looked at you and told you but I was scared and you were scared and we weren’t ready. I’m ready now. Isn’t that ironic? I’m ready right now, I’m still scared but not being with you is so much scarier. I can’t wait but I will. I’ll wait and wait and wait for you, holding my breath, trying to breathe at all.