“Julie Costello: [letter, in tears] 'Dear Mike, by the time you read this, I'll be on a plane. And I've never written a letter like this before, so I don't know how to start. I've been thinking about you and me and marriage, and—well, I know you think that all the time I've been the mature and sure one, but I have to say when it comes to us, you've been the mature one.'

Mike Seaver: [curiously, to himself] I've been the mature one?

Julie Costello: [letter continues] 'Don't deny it. I—I just want to know how you can know so much. Mike, I've got so many questions and I've got so many doubts, and maybe I'm crazy or just scared out of my mind, I don't know, maybe it's just cold feet. But all I know right now is I can't go through with this. And I wanted to tell you all this this morning when you came by, but how could I? I mean you looked so determined with all those invitations under your arm. Well, by the time I got up my courage, I ran out to the hallway and you were already gone. And look, I—I know my confusion must be hard for you to understand.'

Mike Seaver: [solemnly] It's not that hard.

Julie Costello: [letter continues] 'Mike, I'm sorry. I wished I could be more like you and—but I'm not. So take care of yourself. Love, Julie.'”