Please be patient with me
I know the past few months have been hard. There are times when you'd just put your hand to your face after I said something awkward, or you'd walk out on me after yet another faux pas, or I'd have not enough cash on hand and you'd have to treat me to dinner.
There are times, too, when I am hard to understand, when there are things I do that are harder to understand, that there are things which come between us that are hardest to understand, and times like these I can only look out the window, see you there, thinking of me (or at least trying not to do so), and I promise to myself that I'll never trip over again.
There are times when, after promising never to trip over again, I do so, and more than a dozen times, I have. You've said that you do not want to be everything again, do everything again, think of everything again. There are times when we get tired and fight and these keep us awake and we get stuck, in a rut, and we say things we don't mean.
I know I'm not perfect, J., but you should at least know that I am not out to hurt you of my own volition. Things happen and we get stuck in the middle and for the most part it's my fault.
Yet when we are happiest, it is you who does most of the work. And I don't know how to give back. I keep on telling myself, sooner or later I will make it up to her, but little ever gets done. What precious little I do cannot make up for everything you've done, all of them.
You told me more than once, whenever I tell you that I can live without you, don't you believe it; I knew it was true. But this silence, it kills; I've slipped, I've lost my foothold, I'm trying to find my way back.
Again, I'm sorry. And please be patient with me.
There are times, too, when I am hard to understand, when there are things I do that are harder to understand, that there are things which come between us that are hardest to understand, and times like these I can only look out the window, see you there, thinking of me (or at least trying not to do so), and I promise to myself that I'll never trip over again.
There are times when, after promising never to trip over again, I do so, and more than a dozen times, I have. You've said that you do not want to be everything again, do everything again, think of everything again. There are times when we get tired and fight and these keep us awake and we get stuck, in a rut, and we say things we don't mean.
I know I'm not perfect, J., but you should at least know that I am not out to hurt you of my own volition. Things happen and we get stuck in the middle and for the most part it's my fault.
Yet when we are happiest, it is you who does most of the work. And I don't know how to give back. I keep on telling myself, sooner or later I will make it up to her, but little ever gets done. What precious little I do cannot make up for everything you've done, all of them.
You told me more than once, whenever I tell you that I can live without you, don't you believe it; I knew it was true. But this silence, it kills; I've slipped, I've lost my foothold, I'm trying to find my way back.
Again, I'm sorry. And please be patient with me.