I’m Sorry That I let You Down

Was on planes all morning on my way to see the fam in California yesterday. Had a bit of time for a post, and this is what came out.

I’m sorry I didn’t do so well in high school. I never gave it my all and most of the time I was a quitter. I should undoubtedly be further along in life, with a better job doing bigger things.

I’m sorry I quit football and backed out of that study abroad program last minute. That was the first time in my life I felt you were actually proud and I fucked it up.

I’m sorry I ran away when it was time for us to move. I know that was a stressful time for all of us and I never made things easier.

“It’s like we’re on the edge right now. I wish that I could say I’m proud. Im sorry that I let you down…”

-NF, Let you down

I’m sorry for all the fights. With everyone. I said some terrible things I can’t take back and they still eat me up inside on the daily.

I’m sorry for all the times I stole, all the times I lied. I’m sorry for all the calls from the school principal and all the times I got expelled. I’m sorry for the times I’ve been in handcuffs and for all the stupid councilor appointments. Through all my life, seeing you cry has by far been the worst moment. What made it even worse was because it was thanks to me.

“The few who could follow him might say his equations begin brilliantly but then decline—doomed by wishful thinking. No longer should increasing entropy mark the direction of time; Dr. Lecter wants increasing order to point the way.”

-Thomas Harris, Hannibal

I’m sorry I never called. It was all you wanted. A simple request that I kept putting off. I promise I was going to. But then one morning it was too late. I’d missed my chance. Cause there’s no phone to reach where you went.

Most of all, I’m sorry I’m not brave enough to say any of this to you—any of you.

Sorry’s not enough and is far from it. If I could go back in time and fix all of it, I would in a heartbeat. I’d give it all away to go back. But in the meantime, I’ll spend a lifetime trying to make up for it—though I know time can never truly be reversed.

I think about these things everyday and so much more. I wish I could go back, change who I was and be a better person. Maybe then so many memories wouldn’t be so tainted. Maybe then we could be closer. Maybe then I wouldn’t spend so much time stewing in guilt and feeling sorry for myself cause it’s really quite annoying.

But I can’t. All I can do now is pickup the scattered pieces, hoping the picture is somewhat recognizable when I put them back together.

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