I am sorry

For the words I spoke

And the hurt I gave

I am sorry

I am sorry

For the impersonalization

And the unimportance

I am sorry

I am sorry

For not living up to you

And giving up on us

I am sorry

I am sorry

For not believing He would

And not praying about this

I am sorry

I am sorry

For all of my wrongs

And all of my imperfections

I am sorry

I know to apologize

But some things I will accept

I am not a monster; I am human

I have made many mistakes

I know to apologize

But some things I will not accept

I am not a monster, I am human

I have made many mistakes

And I think I've done okay

So I am not sorry for me

I'm sorry that things turned out like this. I thought we were meant to be together, but now, we're so far apart that I don't even know what you're doing. Did you ever finish your degree? Did you ever move back to your home country? I wish I could have stayed in contact long enough to know that you're safe and happy. I'm sorry that I hurt you, but you also hurt me too. But I still miss your friendship even after these few years. I'm sorry I was so selfish, and I'm sorry that my apology is still just another selfish thing for me to write. But this is my chance to forgive myself for the things I've done wrong. How I treated you was one of those things. How I hid you was another. I'm truly sorry for how things ended up. Maybe someday we'll be friends again.

I’m sorry for not treating you better,

For failing to see the beauty you held inside

I gripped such a pure heart,

Only to squeeze it in my rough hands,

Time and time again

If only I’d noticed how sweet you were,

How much you cared through it all

If only I’d said something,

Defended you from my so-called “friends”

More than anything, I wish

I’d been a better companion

Maybe if I had,

We’d be side by side,

Two girls against the world

I’m sorry, dear friend

I am someone who falls in love easily- unfortunately this afflication has a mirrored effect- for just as easily I am able to climb out of it. I am sorry, to the trail of broken hearts, that I have left behind. I picture it like this, walking through a garden of lovers and picking a flower from each patch of persons, all different in shape, smell, and liking. With each I have spent precious times with, with each I would never like to forget, with each I drop a tear for I regret not being able to love for long. I am sorry for not being delicate with your hearts, for the slow rotting of the broken flowers falling from my hands. I am sorry to my own heart, for the torture of breaking ways with those whose roots had become entangled in yours, sorry for their new fences to keep you out. I am most sorry for the inability to explain the unintentions and yet the truth of the love that was shared. And yet, through the garden I continue.

I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. Sorry that those few minutes you managed to make for me were ruined by the accusing way I looked at you. I’m sorry that you felt the need to look away.

What I wanted most was to say I understand-- that I still love and respect you and that I could never hold any of this against you.

But when I gave you that coffee mug all those years ago, I didn’t buy it because it was the cheapest thing I could find-- I bought it because at the time I believed you were the greatest Dad in the entire world.

I didn’t think about the other fifty mugs on the shelf, each one bearing the exact same words.

But I’ve gotten pretty good at seeing things in context now-- I can see that you’re just another human, that you get stressed and lonely and thrilled and make split second choices without even knowing you’ve made them just like everyone else does.

You’d think that discovering the context of someone would make them more understandable and interesting-- but all it seems to do is make you look so small.

But that’s really all just a part of growing up, right? You find out what sex is, your parents gain new dimensions, and you realize that you won’t be a kid forever.

But the world’s been starting to reveal itself to me in ways id never considered-- with jokes about where prostitutes come from and comments about the excessive amount of melanin in absent fathers--

To be clear I know you’re more than this. You’re more than a statistic or a stereotype-- like I said, I’ve discovered your humanity.

So when someone mentions that everyone’s family seems to be broken these days, I remind myself that we’re different-- that you’re different-- that I know who you are at heart, cocaine be damned. I remember how good you are at chess, how your tone softens when I cry, how you cover up your social fumblings with jokes.

But it’s hard to remember any of these things when I haven’t seen you for a year. When I can’t send you a fathers’ day card because I’m worried you’ll take it the wrong way. When you couldn’t make it to my graduation even though you knew about it a month in advance.

It’s hard to remember you’re the same man who taught me how to eat crawfish and told ghost stories to my friends-- hard to believe you’re any different from the other deadbeat dads when the first word that comes to mind when I hear your name is absent.

So I can tell you how much I love you, how much I admire you and how much I want you to get better.

I can even tell you I forgive you.

But I can’t tell you I understand.

Dear C,

I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am about everything. The way I ended our friendship, without explanation, that I just stopped answering your phone calls was plain wrong. You deserved so much better than that. I should have been honest with you. I knew that besides me, L was your best friend. The problem was always with L, never you. I just did not want to answer any questions about the situation and I panicked and avoided you instead of simply saying, “This is a problem between L and me. I’d prefer not to discuss it,” if you had asked me.

Then, in pushing you away, I did something even more unforgivable by passive aggressively writing those hurtful things about you. I was always a little frustrated by your depression and your parents’ enabling of it but I shouldn’t have discussed it in a place where it could get back to you and hurt you. Of course, L found out about it and it all blew up in my face spectacularly. And then L told your sister about it who was rightly outraged. I want you to know I took everything down, the books and the blog. You were nothing but loyal to me and I did not appreciate you like I should have. I know it’s too late to restore our friendship and L and S would never let that happen.

I did awkwardly try to offer an apology three years ago when I invited you to that milestone party. It wasn’t to get a check from you as L had accused. If you had decided to come, no gift in hand, I just would have been happy to see YOU. I see now that I went about it all wrong. I should have called you on the phone or taken you to lunch. I should have said how sorry I was for pushing you away but we shared so much together and I wanted you to be at my important celebration. We just had too much history for me to leave you out. I’m sorry if you took my invitation the wrong way.

I know it’s too late for us. You were a better friend to me than I deserved. I am so sorry about everything that happened and I wish I had handled things differently.

Many Regrets,

Me

I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you what you needed. I don’t know think anyone could give all 27 of you what you needed, but there are people who could have done better. I should have been more open, more loving, known what the fuck I was doing and been able to give you all what you needed. But I didn’t know what I was doing, I was dropped among you, beaten down by the systems that beat you down. We were stuck together for a year, 30 people in a room, we carried our wounds and weights and we hurt each other with them. I tried to soak up that damage give space for that pain to be let out, but I wasn’t enough and I wasn’t willing to give myself to that cause. I wouldn’t let you see my own weight and wounds, wouldn’t confidently be myself. We grew new wounds from each other and our classroom was no longer able to be the place of safety you needed. You were all alone. I was supposed to be there for you, be someone unabashedly there for you, your trusted friend and mentor. And then I was supposed to leave you after a year. I couldn’t do that. Couldn’t bear to be there and then gone like that, maybe it was the grief, or my own emotional bullshit, or just weakness. So I held back, kept a distance, only offered academic support and intelectual emotional support. Then when one of you would let a desprate crawling need show I would then call up something in a hopeless response to try to ease that pain. But there was nothing I, the emotionally distant asshole, could give you, I only sat there in your pain, got further beaten down by it. I tried, I worked, and maybe I helped, but I wasn’t enough. But I never could be, nothing I could have done would have been enough, as much as I want to hate myself for my fuck ups and failures throughout that year, they were as meaningless as my better moments against the vastness of the shittiness of what you have to deal with. You shouldn’t have to deal with what you have to. You shouldn’t be stuck in a class of 27 students. You should have a better teacher with more patience and a better grasp of what he was doing. You should have more councilors and social workers and administrators, working to help you deal with all the shit you shouldn’t have to deal with. You should have parents who aren’t as run down, beaten down, over worked, underpayed, and under loved. You shouldn’t have to be told that your dad died from taking too much sleep medicine because he over dosed. You should be able to get help for your emotional issues even if they only disrupt your learning and not the learning of the whole class. You should have a better cafeteria and better school lunches. You should have some one other than an idiot in a red jacket for a year to cling to for love.

But here we are, you don't have what you need or what you deserve, and I couldn’t give you anything resembling a replacement for any of it and I have to just live with that. I have to move on, because I can’t go back, can’t try to fix a little bit of the mountain of unfixable problems. I have to try to honor your suffering by working to improve systems that won’t improve. I have to do all that knowing that you don’t get to. You’re stuck there for another year, for more wounds and more weight to be given to you. You will stay there being beaten down constantly, and I just have to hope that you’ll have someone better next year. Someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing, can give you something, can help.

So I’m sorry, sorry for everything you have to deal with, sorry for all of my mistakes, sorry for everything. I hope you can forgive me. I hope you can survive these years. I hope you can stay strong, stay kind and keep some joy alive inside you. Because all I can do right now is hope.

I'm sorry for putting myself through the hell of my own insecurities. How I let them manifest into huge fears; cameras, microphones, being seen without the perfect outift or makeup on. Fears of being around others and meeting new people. Fears of not being happy in life, or being homeless again, not measuring up academically or socially.

I put so much worry into checking all the boxes, Link Crew, NHS, GHS, NAHS, FBLA, Musical, AP Classes, on top of my extracurriculars of writing, music, and art. Not accounting for doing what makes ME happy, mentilly healthy, motivated, physically healthy. . .

So I'm sorry and I will try to do better. Stress less and take care of myself. Especially physically and mentally. It's been a rough go this year and I need to give myself a rest.

#Alien Girl

Im sorry that i wasnt good enough,

That I pulled you apart, im sorry that I was such a mess.

Im sorry I wasnt what you wanted me to be

and im sorry that I was such a let down.

Im sorry that I wasnt the one you wished for at night,

However im sorry the most for me still loving you.

Im sorry i cant move on

im sorry for the pain I feel each time I hear your voice

and Im sorry that I know that this will be like this forever.

Im sorry that I wasnt the one for you, but you where the one for me.

Im sorry I always put you first and

im sorry I always got hurt.

Im sorry that you lost me and last of all,

Im sorry that I lost you.