A letter better left unsent solo

Clair was sitting at the end of her bed, well not really sitting, more of standing; on her head.
She often would just sit like this, it was a way to help her think, she found.
She had a feeling, words were forming in her head and she knew she had to write them out, even if she did nothing with them.

Flopping off her head and letting her brain clear from all the blood rushing to her head, Clair pulled out a pen and some parchment (that she still had left over from Hogwarts).

She did not have to think of what she wanted to say, she just knew.

Dear Edward,
I'm not sure how you got this, or if you'll ever get this. If I ever do get the nerve up to give this to you, I will warn you now: This is no love letter.
I have something I must tell you, something that I only just realized today.
Well to be straight to the point, I don't think I love you the way you do me. I was thinking about it today, and I see you as more of a friend who happens to be male, than a boyfriend romantic sort of thing. I asked myself why I said what I did on that night that we agreed to date. Why did I say yes? What propelled me to say yes? When you were a stranger to me still. Why did I throw away all common sense and just agree? Most the time I'd have been so guarded that you would have been smacked (or punched for that matter) across the face. Yet all my senses left me when you asked, was it just the pressure? Or maybe the shock? I was not sure why, that is up until about two seconds ago. I was sitting on my head as I often do when I try to think. And than it came to me. I think what you will read might be a little bit sad to you, or maybe you'll be so angry that you'll want nothing to do with me, I'm not sure.
I think the reason that I said yes was not due to a adoration that I had towards you. I think that at the time I thought it was, at the time I had mistaken the feeling I felt as love, when instead it was my own way of mending heartbreak. I'm not sure if I ever told you or not. But My mother died in February, so it would only make sense that I was still heartbroken. (and I still am) I think that my brain decided that I would be able to use you as a mend for my broken heart, that I would be able to fill that empty hole with you. So my brain said that I needed you to mend my heart, and I mistook it as love.
And now, as I sit here thinking about it I feel guilty, because I took you, I used you, and I did not even realize I was doing it. I'm really really sorry. And I understand if you don't wish to speak to me for a while.
-yours Clair.

She signed off and watched as a single tear landed on her paper, wiping her eyes before they could give away her true feelings she sealed the not and neatly wrote 'Edward Smith.' on the front, and with that she stuck it into the basket of things to give him, before she lost her bravery.