I peer down curiously at the small white envelope with my name on, handwritten in small bouncy script.
"Dear Katie, university dropout and proud,"
My mind is completely absent to the memory of the girl who'd emailed me asking for my address a few days prior. I eagerly yet cautiously tear into the package to find a four page long, handwritten letter.
I'm not two paragraphs in before a lump starts to rise in my throat.
By the end, my hands are shaking.