Dearest Catnip,

I don't know how these things usually start, but I think a thank you is in order. Thank you because in my darkest hours, when no one knew how much I was struggling, you did. Thank you because you saved me from myself. For the first time, someone cared about me for who I was - not what I looked like. Sure, the snares were what lured you in, but after awhile I'm pretty sure you were the only person who knew what the real Gale felt like. And I loved you for it. Not just in romantic terms, but in the way a person feels when for the first time, they feel safe and understood by another. You gave me that. Until of course, the Capitol took you away.

When you left for those first Games, Catnip, you never came home. I got a different girl. Damaged. Scared. Traumatized. A girl whose first instinct was flight rather than fight. I admit, I didn't understand it for the longest time. I still don't, I guess. All I knew is the Capitol took away my best friend forever. The way your hands shook stringing the bow or the way you looked off into the distance, paralyzed with fear. It scared me. And, I'll admit it, is really what drove me to fight for the rebellion. Because they took away the one real thing I'd ever known. With my family, I always had to be strong - be the person they could count on. Even in Twelve, I had to watch my mouth, hold in what I really believed. But with you… with you I was myself.

Things escalated so fast once you came home that I don't think I ever told you what it felt like to watch those first Games. It felt wrong sipping water when you were so parched. I was afraid to go to sleep at night, fearing that when I woke up, you'd be gone. Then Peeta came into the mix and it made everything so much harder. I think I knew, somewhere, that it was an act. But you try telling yourself that when the Capitol not only forces you to watch your friend die, but has her die kissing someone else. It was sickening. Sometimes, I'd find myself wishing Peeta wouldn't make it. Hoping the blood poisoning would take him before you reached the cure. I hated myself, but I can't pretend the thoughts weren't there.

But you both came home only for the Capitol to throw you into another arena! As if they hadn't already taken everything from you. When the Quell was announced, something shattered inside me. I missed the old Katniss. The one I'd fallen for. I had taken for granted all those wonderful days in the woods with you. Words weren't enough anymore. Just ranting to the trees about how unfair it all was didn't satisfy my need for revenge. I wanted to do something.

The rebellion began. I fought for you. Every time I'd get dispirited, all I had to think about was what the Capitol had done to you and my blood would boil. With every kill, you thought I was heartless. In your eyes, I could see that you no longer completely trusted me. But you didn't see Twelve go up in flames. I was too far gone to realize what I was doing to our relationship.

Peeta Mellark. When he was whole, I still had a chance. Maybe, arrows would win over bread. But once Snow touched him it was all over. If I'm honest, it was truly over when you were in the Quell together. I saw how much you cared about him. The world saw. In Thirteen, you fell apart watching him deteriorate on the screen. There was hardly a trace of the girl I used to hunt with outside Twelve. It felt wrong kissing you because I knew that I was just a substitute for Peeta. A backup. But I did it anyway. I can't explain what I was feeling then, so I won't try.

Yes, his hijacking broke you. But the final straw, the only remaining thing to make your life worth living, wasn't taken from you by the Capitol. It was taken from you by me. Because it was my idea, my bombs, that killed your little sister. Prim was as much a sister to me as she was to you. Every day I miss the way she laughed, her sensitive heart and healing hands. Your sister was an extension of my family. And I let her die. No, I let her burn. I wish I could go back and remove any idea of double-exploding bombs from my head. Trust me, I would do it in a heartbeat. I killed the one beautiful thing that Snow hadn't yet destroyed. The little blonde girl who meant the world to you is ashes because of me. "I'm sorry" will never encompass the amount of shame and regret that plagues me.

I suppose you think I didn't come home because I was ashamed or scared. That's part of it. But I also knew that any interaction between you and I would just bring pain to us both. I didn't want that for you. Every time I try and conjure up your face, I see hers next to it. I know it must be the same for you. Perhaps someday I'll return to Twelve, when we've both moved on, pieced ourselves back together the best we can. But for now, I belong here in Two.

I'm not writing this letter to beg forgiveness because what I've done isn't worth that. I don't even know if you'll open this letter. Maybe it will just sit in a pile with all the other sob stories people have written you. Maybe when you see my name on it, you'll let the embers of your fire swallow it up. But if you do read this, just know that I had to write it. Had to get the feelings down on paper to sort out what all of them were. To try and let go.

Things will never be the same between us, but I hope you know I much I loved you. Just having you on my side for so many years. I miss you, Catnip. Everyday. I'm leaving the remainder of this quote open in hope that when you read it, you'll finish it for me. Maybe it'll remind you of all the days we used to spend in the woods eating blackberries together.

May the odds -

Signed,

Gale