I really did something bad I think a long time ago.
It was awful. And she was awful too, in her moments. It felt like she was my mother at some points. I don't think anything has clouded my judgement of my memory of her.
She was temperamental, hysterical and kind. I think she had a good heart.
She once told me a story about a woman who pretended to be her friend. One who sent her card with angel wings. Then she promptly stabbed her in the back and caused her pain. Well, on further reflection I wonder how she bended the truth of her story. If maybe in her mind she was a martyr. It certainly feels like her attitude towards me is biased.
I don't pretend to be perfect. I'm far from it. I've hurt people--really hurt people and I'm ashamed to say some of it was intentionally done. That stings really, to see it in print. For someone who can cry at the drop of a hat when it comes to empathy for peoples' pain...that's so contradictory it makes me smile.
I ought to apologize, but I'm hesitant.
I didn't mean for things to get so complicated. We won't speak ever again but you won't forget me no matter how hard you try. Or maybe you will. Maybe I'm not worth your time.
Either way I wish her well. She finally did pursue her dreams and maybe I had a small part in it. I'd like to think so.
We really are self-absorbed.
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