The reasons... well, there's three of them.

The first reason is because it's not safe for me to be around you. It's not illegal, anymore, and hasn't been for years, so there's no worry there.

{Apparently there was some ghost government over here that did something worse than death to you if you "interfered" with the living, even if they were going to hurt the people you were tied down to. I hear no one really liked that government, even if everyone belonged to it. So when some really bad things happened and the government collapsed, no one was in any hurry to put it back together again. And, oddly enough, we ghosts seem to be getting along just fine: score one for the Libertarians!}

But there's still a really good reason for me to stay away. And his name is Mr. Bright Side.

How can I explain this asshole? You remember the night that I got really maudlin, really drunk and really mean and violent in the space of a few hours? That was when I'd lost my job and my best friend from college in the space of a day. I felt absolutely worthless, and wouldn't listen to anyone who told me things would be okay, to hell will Bill for being a back-stabbing asshole, and to hell with the company for firing me for doing my job right.

All I remember from that night is the last beer I had, me shrieking abuse at my reflection in the mirror, and you cupping my face in your hands and telling me you loved me, and to stop it before I hurt myself. And I will always remember the next morning, when you told me that you never ever wanted to see that side of me again, and made me promise I wouldn't drink if I was upset.

Well, I buried that side of me as deep as I could, because I loved you and I didn't want it to ruin things between us. But that side of me was always there. I had it before I knew you, and it stayed in me even after that night - I just didn't let it out, anymore.

And now... well, take that drunken, irrational hatred of myself for failings both real and imagined, multiply it by about ten, and give it a voice that, even as I write this, just won't shut the hell up and leave me alone. That's Mr. Bright Side, and he's been trying to get me to hurt myself, and trying to hurt you, since the day I died.

{I named him after that one song they're playing on the radio these days. It seemed appropriate when I realized how much he helped me become obsessed with ruining your love life. Most folks over here call their Mr. Bright Side "the Shadow" but that reminds me too much of a certain movie that, for once, we both agreed was crap. So there you are - Mr. Bright Side.}

You see, Mr. Bright Side doesn't just talk. He can do things - terrible things. He can make me see and hear things that aren't there, or weren't said. He can try to make me angry or bury me in despair. And if he gets what he wants, and makes me feel certain bad, terrible ways, he can take me over like a puppet {just like we do to the living, now and again} and do whatever he wants to...

I'm sure you can see where that's going. But just in case you need any more prompting, Mr. Bright Side was the one who got that SOB "excellence consultant" who re-interviewed you for your own job to go nuts and try to kill himself. I used my ghost powers to whisper love and cheer into your ear to keep you alive, but Bright Side used those same powers to talk horror, pain and despair to the guy until he agreed that he just should not exist anymore.

That's why he drank the oven cleaner, and thank God his wife stopped him before it became a lethal dose. But could you imagine what he might do to you, and who might stop you when you're all alone in your apartment? Well, I can, and I can't. And I won't let the asshole try.

There's ways to keep Bright Side in check, and I do them as much as I'm able. But it's generally understood that the fight against the bastard is a losing one. Sooner or later, everyone loses to their worst side, and they either leap into hell, lie down and die or become something so terrible that all you could ever hope for is that some other ghost will be there to put you out of everyone else's misery.

{And no, you really don't want the full details on any of that. Ignorance is bliss.}

The second reason? Well, I've met someone else.

{And boy, even now that makes me worry about you being jealous and upset. And while I have to say it's silly for me to be worried about that, I'd have to admit that it was silly of me to be jealous of the men who wanted to date you. And it didn't feel silly at the time, so I hope you understand...}

Anyway, I've met someone else. Her name is Gladys. She was about the same age as I was when I died, except that she died about twenty years before I did. {Yeah, me and older women}

She was one of the first ghosts I met over here, after it all happened. And over the years we just got closer and closer as some of the things that bound us to the world slipped further and further away. It wasn't until last year, sometime, that we decided to call the closeness by its proper name - love - and when that happened...

You know how I said that it's emotions that drive us, over here? Well, you come into the land of the dead with a certain bunch of feelings, and these are things you have to try and live with, or resolve. But as you go along, day after day, sometimes those feelings start to fade - especially if you neglect them, or your other side puts a whammy on them.

Fortunately {maybe unfortunately, depending on how you look at it}, its possible for us to develop new, different feelings over time. Sometimes the feeling stays the same and the reasons behind it change. Sometimes the feeling changes along with the reasons, or the feelings for the reason shift.

Yeah, there's a lot of variables, there. But the important thing for you to understand is that if you put a high priority on these new emotions, and tend to them as much as you tended to the old ones, they will grow to make up for the loss elsewhere.

The moment Gladys and I said we were in love, and knew that the other meant it, the spark of connection bloomed between us. As my love for Gladys has grown, in her presence, my love for you has diminished. And one day, I will love her as much as I once loved you, and my emotions will be as tied up with her as they were with you.

I know that sounds terrible, and would be good reason for a smacked face and a tossed-back ring if we were still alive. But that's the truth, and that's how it stands. I still love you, and always will, but I love her too, and that's shown me a world of possibilities that I'd be stupid and short-sighted to ignore.

{And that's why I'm writing this letter, rather than just leaving. I have to tell myself, as much as you, why I'm doing this. And I have to send this to you so I know, beyond all doubt, that I am serious about this, and am going to make this commitment to her.}