I am sorry for throwing that clod of dirt at Sean while Grandma was staying with us, and also for the straight-ahead punch to the face. I was seeing red, I was so full of rage. I’m sorry Grandma called us the worst thing she ever said: “simpletons.”
I am sorry for that rock I threw at Becky Thistle on Fairview Drive in Cedar Rapids when we were 8. She and her friends had been making fun of me all day long, but it was no excuse. I threw it from a hundred yards away, but I knew the second it went up in the air that it was going to land on her head. I had to apologize to her parents while they were swabbing her scalp in the bathtub.
I am sorry to my senior prom date for not driving her home. I thought we had all gone just as friends, but even a friend wants to feel special on prom night. I just didn’t get it.
I’m sorry to Kent when I was seven, when he surprised me and I accidentally threw my new silver dollar at his front teeth.
I’m sorry that I discovered Michelle’s dead kitten in the trash, where Dad had thrown it away, and showed it to her. I still have the vision of that kitten’s closed eyes even twenty-five years later.
I’m sorry for being such a pent-up homophobe in prep school. I don’t think I actually disliked gays, I just didn’t know any of them. Turns out all my friends eventually came out. I can see why everyone avoided me during the transition period.
I’m sorry for being such a priapic jackass from 1992-1999.
I’m sorry about the way I behaved at both internet jobs, especially the last one. Some of the people at those companies were rock stars in their fields, and didn’t deserve my attitude.
I am sorry for all the times I talked shit or divulged secrets just to impress the people around me. I’m sorry I wasn’t such a great big brother, or even Big Bro.
I am trying just to be a worker among workers.