Dear Oliver,
I know it’s not been long since I last wrote, but we’re in the middle of a storm here and there’s not much else to do and so I wanted to see how you’re keeping.
At the time of writing this 4th letter I’ve still not heard from you and I’ve been thinking about why that might be.
My first idea was that maybe you’re not even receiving my emails, which is why I’ve used a different account this week in case it’s a mailing issue.
The other reason could be that maybe your mother just isn’t passing them on to you?
That seems a fair bet. It can’t be easy for her to risk losing any control over the situation, having had a vice-like grip for 18 years. That’s the reason I’m sharing all these letters publicly now. Maybe, just maybe, one day you’ll happen across them and ask the right questions.
On the other hand, maybe you already are receiving them, but are not ready to speak to me.
And if that’s the situation, I fully understand.
I have no idea if you knew about me before your 18th birthday, or whether my recent communication has all come as a bit of a shock in the last couple of months.
I’ve already waited 18 years to speak to you. If you need a little longer until you’re ready, I can manage that.
If I don’t hear back in any form then I’ll keep writing in the hope something will reach you, because there’s little else I can really do until my friend-of-a-friend has a spare day to drive out to [Address Redacted] to drop something off on my behalf.
Take care and I’ll write again soon.
Yours Sincerely,
