Mea Culpa

Me: Man, that party last night was not cool.
You: Yeah, I know!! Skate Land is so not cool!!
Me: Did you hear what those guys, Brad and Casey, were saying about us?!
You: Oh, you mean that we had the hots for each other and that we were, like, boyfriend and girlfriend?
Me: Yeah! I mean, that's, like, crazy, right?!
You: Oh, totally!! I'm on the rampage, right now!!
Me: Yeah...me, too.

That conversation was exchanged over 17 years ago. It's one of my first memories of our friendship and it makes me smile every time I think about it. We were so innocent and unaware of how truly hurtful people can be.

***

For those of you who read this blog, you'll notice that I haven't written anything for about a week. Well, I've been doing a lot of thinking since my last entry, when I hurt someone that I care a great deal about.

Today, I'm going to do something I've never done with this blog. I'm going to make an apology. It's not easy for me to do this; not because I'm bad at apologizing. I think we can all agree that I'm the King of Apologies. No, this isn't going to be easy for me because I meant what I said when I said it.

I. Wanted. To. Hurt. You.

Sometimes, when we're angry, we do or say things that make oodles of sense at the time but once the dust settles, we look back and wonder, why was I so hot about something so silly, why did I lash out like that?? Sometimes, we need to look at the big picture, the grand scheme of things.

For instance, when Anonymous wrote that vicious comment on my blog, it put my whole day in a tale spin. It freaked me out because, as harsh as their words were, there was still a kernel of truth to what they wrote. I'll admit it. Of course, I'm still happy with what I wrote. They had it coming, no doubt about it!!! Yet, my point is that I remember waking up the next morning, thinking to myself, why did I let that goat-blowing windbag get to me???

It's true what one of my friends wrote in a recent blog entry. We hurt those that we love. And make no mistake, I do love you, dear. And the thing is, I know that you really don't even want or need an apology. And yet, here I am...trying to find a way to undo what I did, unhurt the hurt.

It's not so easy, but here goes: I am so very sorry, chickadee.

I'm going to tell you something that I didn't really think I'd be prepared to say. It's going to be long-winded in only the way that I know how to be, but run with me.

Three months ago, when The Bad Thing happened, I remember thinking to myself, I don't want these fucking memories! I want to give them all back. I have all these amazing things that happened, so many wonderful words exchanged. I don't know what to do with any of it now!! It's like a giant waste of space in my head because it means absolutely nothing now!! It literally hurts to even think about those memories. I wish I could make it all go away: The pain, the crying, the memories...everything!!

I will say this and I will say it only once: I talk-er-write a good game, but if I lost you, all of the pain I went through in regards to The Girl would seem pretty damn insignificant in comparison.

I take you for granted, sweetheart. I always have. It's a horrible thing to say and it probably doesn't win me any points in the Friend Department, but there it is. I think that when you've been friends with someone for so long, you stop questioning loyalties and you just expect that person to be your friend to the end, even when you're a thoughtless, self-involved sonofabitch like myself.

When I realized how hurtful what I wrote was, I tried to be like The Fonz and act like everything was fine and, ya know, to hell with her!! I don't need her!! And then, when you called the other night, I could hear the hurt in your voice and even to the last second, I played it off, like it was nothing to worry about. And then, yesterday, it hit me:

I need you.

Seventeen years is a long time. And while you may not have been physically in the picture at all times, you have always been there for me.

It was you who calmed me down when the clown freaked me out at the The Fright Zone and rapped with me to Warren G's "Regulator" that very same night. It was
you--and only you--that clapped for me when I made a complete ass of myself at my Bar Mitzvah party when I did that lame Top 10 List that everyone still gives me shit about to this day. It was you who bought me a copy of the Seal CD, Human Beings. It was you who hauled ass out of bed and came over and slept on the couch at my parents' place when I was house-sitting because I was too afraid to be alone. It was you who drove me to my birthday shindig when I called you out of the blue, just so I'd have a designated driver. It is you who has always stuck by me, even when I've been a complete douche bag to you and, yes, it is you who I always seem to find new ways to disappoint.

You have always deserved better than what I've given you. Last Saturday, when I wrote what I wrote, was no exception.

You deserved better.