Yes, I did receive your package.
And the knowledge of it waiting at my doorstep ignited a turbulent collision of joy and despair.

Ecstatic joy.  Correspondence implies that I was in your thoughts.
Then.
Crippling despair.  The realization that this is your effort to finalize all that you'd said.  Ridding yourself of the last remaining pieces of our connection.  Extinguishing the flicker of hope that maybe you'd kept my things this long to deliver them in person, to confess your mistake, your love, your devotion.

But no.  Our final exchange is catered by Fedex, coupled with a cold note, thanking me for a necklace.