Sunday, September 10, 2006

Worst person of the week

Hands-down, me. When you said this morning with a strangled sad note in your voice, "I was afraid you were writing me off" I've never felt like a bigger jackass in all my life. And there have been some amazingly bad runner-up events...but this takes the prize.

I wasn't writing you off. Only -- I was, for a moment.

Just couldn't keep dealing, or wearing a face of stone. I'm so sorry.

It's the most asinine thing, being paralyzed knowing how much I'm going to miss you so I stay away because of it. Robbing us of the short time we have left together because I can't handle having such a short time left together. To the point of starting to bum out in a crowded room because of song lyrics from the Animals, of all bands...and I can't help it.

But that's not all of it, entirely, is it? You know what the rest of it is, I think. How futile and pointless it seems to grow old and have to suffer. How you're living reminders of an unimaginable future that befalls everyone "lucky" enough to live so long.

I knew, even though nothing was said, everything seemed somewhat normal. . .I knew you knew exactly what I was doing. That you felt it. Just like I knew it was hurting you both. Today you confirmed it. Told myself I just needed some time off, to get the stress away before it caused something truly awful...and that was valid. It still is. But that doesn't make it any less selfish or cowardly.

I'm sorry. Sorry I hurt you. Sorry I love you, sometimes. Sorry, sorry, sorry I'm not as noble, stoic and decent as you both are, even though I'm going to start being just that, again.

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