You don’t have to say it, I know, I KNOW! Look … I’m trying … will you … will … you give me a chance to explain?
You’re right, ok. You are right.
Yes, I realize that I joined the “postaday2011” challenge just last week. And yes, I already managed to skip two days.
“Two days in the very first week.” Right. You are right. I just said it!
So fine, what do you want me to say?
Fine: “I’m SORRY!” Not enough? OK, here you go: “I’m a huge disappointment.” Right, ok, “I’m not trust-worthy.”
I lured you in with unspoken promises of attention and focus and humor and … right, right not really “humor” I know, it wasn’t that funny … OK, so yes and unspoken promises of understanding and then, and then I actually promised you those things, I actually said “I’ll do this everyday, I can’t tell you that every day will be good or great but I can promise you that every day I will be there for you.” And you believed me and for a couple of days I gave you reason to believe. And then I stopped.
And all the promises and the attention and the love began to fade, fade away until they became little more than afterthoughts. Memories. As the days go by, and as I continue to fail you, even the memory begins to fade – so much so that the accuracy of the memory is called into question, and you have to wonder “did that actually happen that way or did I imagine it, did I dream it?” I know. I just said it, didn’t I?
So I’m sorry. Because I want you to believe in me, I want you to believe in us. And I want to be everything you can dream me to be – and by dream I mean the good dreams. Not like those weird and wild David Lynchian dreams you had after you ate that steak burrito at 3 am the other night. Remember? The one from Trader Joe’s that seemed like a good idea at the time, especially after all that beer? But I don’t mean those dreams, I mean the dreams you had as a child, the dreams that lifted you far away from the harsh realities of verb conjugation and multiplication tables to a candy coated world of limitless possibilities. A dream world where you could grow up to be anyone, to be anything you could dream of: like an astronaut; or a cowboy; or a priest. OK, right, I’m sorry, those were “my dreams” and I don’t mean to put them on you. Your dreams are your dreams. And I support them. I just want to be a part of them.
I’m getting off point, let me just say, I need this. I need you. I need us. And while I may not deserve you, hell I know I don’t deserve you, all I ask for is a chance to be the kind of guy who does deserve you. Can you give me that? Please?
I’ll be better. No, no, I will be better. I’m not just saying that. Why? Why would I be better? Because, well … because … you make me want to be a better blogger. There I said it.
There you go .. isn’t that better? No, no, you have nothing to be sorry for. I was wrong … your only fault was caring too much. Thank you for that. And thanks for the hug, there’s nothing like a “make-up hug.”
Oh right, THAT is better … you are naughty. Sure, let’s have a little make up … right, I’ll stop talking.