• I’m Sorry

    by  • October 1, 2010 • Grief, Love - Pure and Simple, Miss You, Regret, Sorry, Yearning for You • 0 Comments

    I know that an apology cannot undo what has already been done. But how I wish it could, that somehow, someway I could apologize enough to make everything better and make every single bad thing that’s happened in the last month and a half disappear.

    I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I’m sorry that I thought I could trust someone who it turned out I couldn’t trust at all. I’m sorry that I promised you, and that I broke that promise, hoping you’d never find out. I’m sorry that you don’t feel you can trust me anymore. And I’m sorry that I think that you’ve made the best decision you can, to never speak to me again.

    I’m sorry that I’ve probably cost you your job. No matter how often everyone tells me, except you of course, that it’s not my fault, and that I’m not to blame, and that I’m the victim in all of this, I don’t feel like the victim. And I know that I am at least partially to blame. I’m sorry that I can’t talk to you, or ask anyone to know for sure, whether you’re alright or not, whether I’ve ruined your career.

    I’m sorry that you asked me to just stay out of this, because I so much want to help you in anyway I can. I’m sorry that I can’t help you. Because I don’t know if there’s anything I could say that could make this situation even slightly less awful.

    I think, maybe most of all, or maybe tied with losing you your job, I’m sorry that I’ll never get to tell you how I feel about you. I’m sorry that it wasn’t the right time for us. I’m sorry, because I think we could have been something really great, if we’d been given half a chance. But instead, we took what wasn’t ours to have. And we did something we shouldn’t. I’m sorry that we couldn’t wait for our chance, and because of that, now it’s all over. I’m sorry that what we had was prematurely cut short, before it even had a chance to thrive.

    I’m sorry that I’ll never get a chance to tell you that I love you. I’m sorry that I realized I loved you too late to prevent any of this from happening. I’m sorry I didn’t care enough when it mattered. And now that it doesn’t matter at all, I care too much.

    I’m sorry that this will probably always be a career-defining moment for you. I hope with all of my heart that you still have a career after this. And I’m sorry for the part that I played if you don’t. I’m sorry for your family, because I know they counted on you having a job. I’m sorry for your mom, for everything. I’m sorry for what your family and friends and co-workers and everyone else might think of you, if it becomes public knowledge of what happened.

    I love you. I love you I love you. Since I’ll never get the chance to tell you, I can’t help but want to say it a thousand times, here, where you’ll never find it. I love you I love you I love you. You will always be That One. That one that got away. That one that could have been. Because we could have been. We could have been everything, you would have been everything to me.

    I hate words right now. Because they cannot ever do justice to how I feel about you. And what frustrates me, and confuses me, and makes me yearn for what can’t be, is that I will never know how strong my feelings for you could have been.

    I love you. And I’m sorry. And that’s all I can say.


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