I am sorry that six years was too long for me to wait. You were only other person in that shit storm of a city to have plans and they were different from mine. They would have put us apart for six years; and that was more time than I could even fathom then. That Halloween, the first one we were apart, me in a new place, you left behind, I went to a party with Daniel because I liked him. It was confusing. He wasn't better than you, he was just there and you wouldn't be for such a long time, maybe not ever, really, because how could we know? I didn't believe in discussing the future then, and maybe that was a mistake. Maybe I was taking you too lightly, and I'm sorry for that too. It certainly wasn't about him. I wasn't fooled by his waxing poetic and childhood in Portugal. I had ten times more respect for your calloused hands and quiet fortitude. You never had a sob story to tell, and I don't think they make people as strong as you anymore. I never slept with him. Ever. Not even after you and I ended things over the phone. (And I'm sorry it was over the phone.) I'm sorry the next time I saw you I cried and you hugged me. And that I was so nervous to be near you again I ate the birdseed we never fed to the birds. I'm sorry I didn't give you money for the birdseed. It looked expensive. It tasted horrible.
*Read at The Apologies show on 4/6/07*