I’m Sorry

I’m sorry that you’re lonely. Someday I hope loneliness is so distant that you can’t remember how it felt.

I’m sorry that I haven’t met your expectations. I’m still trying. Every single day I try. Your expectations feel like an asymptote on a graph, and my efforts can’t meet it.

I’m sorry that he doesn’t love you as much as you need him to. So many others do. I hope you’ll give your love to the ones around you and to yourself. Someday there will be one who loves you more than any other has.

I’m sorry that I wasn’t ready for you. I was too young and too stupid. When you’re older you’ll remember watching your mother grow up right beside you, you’ll remember being poor and feeling uncertain. I hope you’ll also remember that I did the best I could.

I’m sorry that I caused you pain. I hope it was quick like tearing off a band-aid. I hope it didn’t leave a scar, and if it did, that you can’t remember what caused it.

I’m sorry that I didn’t say goodbye. When I came out of my room you were already gone, blankets and pillows stacked on the tattered couch. I would’ve dragged myself out of bed to say goodbye if I had known. I would’ve run a marathon and waded through a muddy pond and swam across a river if I had known that I would never see you again.

I’m sorry.

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