I’m sorry, to everyone, for everything.
I need to apologize to the entire world for a number of things. I’m aware that portions of my existence may offend some people, so I’d like the opportunity to clear up a few things if you don’t mind.
I’m sorry, but I’m not perfect. In fact, the greater majority of the time I’m rather clueless. The older I get, the more my mind sinks into its internal darkness. I lose awareness of where I am, what the social situation is, and what my behavior should be.
I’m sorry, but I’m not enough for anyone. I think I’ve proven that in both long-term and short-term relationships. People have needs that I am unable to meet, whether they’re physical, emotional, spiritual, or mental. I may try to address needs that are most immediate, but I frequently fail at the most basic tasks.
I’m sorry, but I am no longer young. Neither am I handsome, virile, adventurous, capable, mindful, romantic, or strong. If I ever had any of those traits, they have all left me. At this point, I am little more than an empty shell.
I’m sorry, but I am sick. I will be sick on some level for the rest of my life. Leukemia does not go away. Diabetes does not go away. One or both of them, or something not yet discovered, will eventually kill me. My doctor was very clear: the rest of my life is going to be difficult. There’s not a damn thing I can do about that.
I’m sorry, but I don’t always express sufficient thankfulness for everything that people do for me. Over the past two years, we’ve seen some amazing gestures from a lot of people as they’ve helped us in so many different ways. Thank you, quite seriously, from the bottom of my heart.
I’m sorry, but I’m poor. Social Security pays me a whopping $1,100 a month. That’s it. From that, roughly $800 a month is taken in home expenses such as groceries, toilet paper, and clothing for growing kids. There’s never enough. I can’t afford to go out. I can’t afford to come see your show. I can’t buy your art. I’m truly sorry. I would love to support you more and join you in all the amazing things you’re doing, but that’s not possible.
I’m sorry, but I can’t drive. Ever. Anywhere. If you had seen the condition of my last car, the dents, the dings, and the scratches, you would understand why. My spatial awareness is severely diminished. My mind wanders and does not stay focused on the task at hand. I lose track of what I’m doing, where I’m going, and how to get anywhere. I’m not safe.
I’m sorry, but I’m a mess. My mind is a haze and in that haze, I lose track of everything. Did I take out the trash? Did I change my socks? Have I taken my meds? Are the kids home? What time is it? What should I be doing now? What was I just doing? Have I said that already?
I’m sorry, but I love a lot of people, even people I don’t know. I don’t mean that in any superficial “brotherhood of man” kind of way. I seriously love you. There’s no way for me to express that without coming off as either creepy, needy, or both. So, I stay silent. But seriously, I love you.
I’m sorry, but I’m mean. I’ve lost patience with people who are either willfully ignorant or willfully stupid. I don’t understand how anyone can continue to be a Republican. I get why you may have started down that path, but where the party is now is evil. Leave. The same applies to religion. All of them. The older I get, the more vile and treacherous those mythological belief systems become. You don’t love people if you want to control their lives, limit who they are, and prevent them from being who they were meant to be. You are not compassionate if you don’t want everyone to have food, healthcare, and a genuine education void of political or religious interference. You are not humane if you want to control where anyone lives, how they live, or how they raise their families. I am not tolerant. I am not understanding. You need to fucking re-evaluate your life. Now.
I’m sorry, but I’m full of contradictions.
I’m sorry, but I don’t like uniforms or mandatory dress codes. If you want to wear a heavy coat in the middle of summer, go for it. If you don’t want to wear anything, ever, anywhere, that’s your prerogative.
I’m sorry, but I want there to be a way to communicate visually that I am not an abusive asshole. Too many men have done absolutely horrible things to women and children, to the point where it’s safer to regard all men as dangerous. I’m sorry that we share a gender identity. Abusive people are evil.
I’m sorry, but many of you deserve better than what you have. I see too many toxic relationships and too many of you are comfortable being in one. It breaks my heart every time you recommit to scum. It’s not love, dear.
I’m sorry, but I no longer remember why I started this post.