I'm so sorry. I wish I could have saved you. I thought I'd convinced you that you were better off without him, convinced you that you could have a life again. I tried to stop you from getting into the bad things that you did, and when I saw you were in the thick of them, I came and cleaned you up. I can't even count how many times I'd come to your apartment and find it a mess and find you in a heap on the floor, either passed out, too high to move, or crying hysterically. I'd carry you into the bathroom and wash you up, then tuck you in bed and leave a glass of water next to your sink. Then I'd clean your whole apartment, throw away your cigarettes and drug paraphernalia and then leave the drug in your neighbor's spot in case someone looked through it. I'd make you dinner and leave it in your fridge, and when you'd wake up you'd scream through a mouthful of mac and cheese that you knew I'd thrown away your stuff and you wanted me to give it back. You'd cuss me out until your voice was hoarse, and I'd sit there and listen until you got quiet. Then you'd start to sob and tell me you're sorry but you just miss him so much.

Harrison never deserved you, Morgan. He never has and never will. You crawled back to him and married him and had his babies and gave up your dreams just to be with him, even after I came into your apartment one day to see you having a prolonged seizure, rushed you to the hospital, and discovered you had permanent brain damage, and all the while you just kept screaming his name.

Even though you're in a bad situation, I hope you're happy. I hope you love that boy and love your babies and love your home and love you're life, because you deserve to. You are beautiful soul, and you are gorgeous on the outside too, even with your track marks and rotted teeth and body so frail because it's forgotten how to gain weight. You're beautiful, and I love you so much. You mean the world to me. I met you in bad conditions, but you were loyal and kind and fun, and you were the only person who understood what I was going through. We shared everything; food, clothes, beds, tissue boxes, everything. You were such a great best friend, and I'm so, so sorry I couldn't save you.

I wish we still talked. I know Harry brainwashed you into hating me, but I wish you'd tell him off and keep talking to me. I'd love to hear your voice, love to see how big your kiddos have gotten, love to know how your health is doing now.

I miss you a lot, Moe. Please be safe.