The Lion and the Mouse

As far as olive branches go, yours was exceptionally leafless and diseased.

However, it did not fail its task, if indeed it was intended to catalyze a reaction. It's early and I'm dead tired, and my myopic eyes barely strained into focus as I was deleting the clutch of worthless email messages that flood this account daily. Only by a stroke of luck, by which I mean fortunate coincidence, did I notice your email. There is nothing I needed more this morning than a kick to the teeth to get me the fuck out of a molasses-thick torpor.

I don't remember you taking your anger out on me. I don't remember your anger at all. As far as I could tell you were on the achingly painful quest to fit in. Whether or not you succeeded is also something I'm ignorant of.

Of course I'm a coward. Overgrown with fears, I've chosen to stagnate. If everyone were as hyper-aware of the tragic fragility of every passing second, they would lock their doors as well. To take a well-rehearsed step forward would require tossing out the admittedly childish notion that the second I leave Albuquerque is the second that my parents drop dead. It's childish not because it's unlikely, it's childish because it's inevitable. I don't need that pointed out, but maybe I do need a reason to accept it.

I know I must have shit on you countless times. Not because you deserved it, or because I enjoyed it; but I was on the same quest as you. It's dictated somewhere that happiness comes only at another's expense. I apologize for all of that, I've never been without deep sympathy for those who suffered on my account. I was never thoughtless and wholeheartedly callous - which in the end only makes me that much more guilty. That particular moment was me at my weakest, don't hold on to it as a indicator of my character. It's not one.

I've got to go, thanks for provoking me.