All the things I never told you

the possibility of losing you

Dear Korra,

I never thought in a million years that I was this kind of person. The kind of person who writes letters and shoves them in a box. The kind of person who writes letters and sends them out knowing she's not going to get a response back.

Spirits, you must think I'm a loser. You've never written back. Not once. Today marks one year. No letters, nothing. Yet I can't bring myself to stop writing. I can't bring myself to believe that it would be the right thing to do. Part of me still convinced myself that you read them.

But on bad days where I'm convinced you'll never come back I feel that maybe you did what I did. I stuck every letter my father ever sent me into a box in storage. Not because I don't care what he has to say or that I don't love him, although it's complicated. I'm just scared to see him again. The last time I saw my father he was quite literally willing to kill me for the Equalist cause.

Maybe if I write something good enough, something important enough you'll respond. You'll realize how much I love you, how much your family and friends love you even though you've managed to convince yourself otherwise. How could I stop writing to you when that possibility still stands?

I lost my mom, I couldn't control her death in the mansion, the place I call my home. I lost my dad, I couldn't control that either, he tainted the vision of my life. The way I see the estate, our legacy, everything changed. But I can control this- maybe. I can choose to be there for you. Even if you don't appreciate it right now.

Because you were there for me, you had every right to dump me after what happened with the Equalists. You could have thought I was involved somehow, or maybe you would have said you didn't want to associate with people who were around that environment but you didn't.

You chose to be my friend throughout boy troubles, terrorist groups, and civil wars. Your sleepovers made nights that would otherwise have been spent at the mansion bearable. As well as Days spent roaming around the Earth Kingdom or exploring Zaofu for the first time all the more fun. And about a hundred million more things that couldn't possibly fit on one sheet of paper

So a couple weeks ago when I sat in the workshop of the Sato estate for days on end repainting my car a shade of dark blue that reminded me of you I couldn't stop until the paint fumes nearly caused me to pass out. I don't know why I decided to do it, I always loved my car's signature red paint. Something about it just irked me, it reminded me of our drives and escapades.

I needed something new but I also wanted to be reminded of you. Something that could remind me that good memories are possible for the future.

So now I have an entirely remodeled car sitting in my garage that looks and feels like you. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't nice to get a little glimpse of you after a rough meeting or an excruciating workout. It's practically the only car I use anymore.

Many people refer to me as high maintenance and in many regards it would be an astoundingly factual statement. However, when it comes to you, and us I don't need much.

That doesn't mean I'm ever going to stop missing you. That feeling only increases with every moment you're gone. I've been able to cope better, with the fact you're getting the help you need, more specifically that that 'help' isn't me.

These past few years... I guess I've just gotten used to taking care of everything in my life. The company, bills, house responsibilities, wages for employees, buisness transactions, and much more. I've taken on so much that when you got hurt I expected that I'd be taking care of you too.

When that wasn't what you wanted I didn't really know how to feel. It didn't feel right to be mad, you weren't making the choice out of spite. You knew what was best for you. I guess I just felt really empty.

That whole year was spent getting closer to you than I ever had in our years as friends. I couldn't ever imagine giving you up. Then I was forced to do just that because of the Red Lotus and what they did to you.

Do you ever wonder what you'd be doing right now? I do, all the time. I wonder if I would have painted my car, or built the park in your honor. I'd like to think those things would have happened.

I'd like to think that one day I would have gotten up the courage to tell you how I felt, maybe you felt the same. Maybe you still do.

When you're back here, whenever that is I will tell you. I've realized something over the past year or so, I've already lost you once. If given the chance It's not going to happen again.

Saying that outloud is horrifying. Because what if I lose you anyway? On the other hand if I don't tell you I could lose you in the sense that I'll always wonder.

The sense of curiosity as an engineer, as a scientist, I'll always wonder what might have been. If only I was brave enough to tell you- in person or in a letter.

I'm not.

I'm sorry if this was alot. Really it's just a jumble of everything running through my mind the past few weeks.

I miss you Korra, so very much.

Love, Asami.