20/20

I see things a little more clearly every day as being better and feeling peaceful and at rest returns, slowly. I see the things that I did wrong, and I see the things I could have done differently. I re-read poems, and they mean a little more to me; I see how I distorted meaning and twisted what I was doing, but I don't really know what to do about that now. There's no conversation to have about it except for the one that I have with myself on a daily basis, the one that I let spill over onto this blog. It's already done, and there's really no apology to make.

There are apologies, though, and not the ones you would think. I'm sorry I knew things that I shouldn't have and violated your privacy to find them out, but I'm sorry that you hid them. Not in an angry way, more so in a I-wish-you-didn't-have-to-hide-those-things-because-I-should-have-been-the-kind-of-friend-that-you-could-talk-to-about-those-things type of way.

I think of new things to apologize for every day. I'm good at finding fault in myself and apologizing...after the fact. That's always been a problem of mine: I learn too late.

___________________________________________________


This is really public. It's a good thing no one reads it.

___________________________________________________