The Apology You May Never See: The Unsent Series, Volume 6, Part I

.:The Apology You May Never See: The Unsent Series, Volume 6, Part I:.

Dear Nobility,

I'm sorry. 

There is no other way to say it. 

I'm. Sorry.

You feel that I will never change, except I have. By leaps and bounds. And all because of you. 

For that, I'm sorry. Because you wanted the change to be innate. But how could it be, when everything is borne and inspired by you?

You believe that I refuse to act like an adult.

For that, I'm sorry. When your world crumbles the way it does every time you walk away, I lose all semblance of pride and dignity. Being calm and composed ceases being an option.

But in the end, some things were said that simply cannot be put back in the bottle, and the painful part is, I wasn't the one who uttered them. 

For that, I'm sorry. Because clearly, I inspired so much vitriol that now, you reflect the worst things I think of myself.

Each time I look back on these Unsent letters, I always cringe. Half the time, I don't even remember who it was for any longer. But the embarrassment remains. Because I let my feelings do the talking each time I wrote one of these.

But inasmuch as these are all embarrassing ramblings I will never, ever be proud of, these are also among the fewest time where I am most honest with myself for the public record. Because as right or as wrong as my twisted point of view may be, it's my raw feelings, thinly veiled, barely concealed. The memories and the people may fade, but the pain never does. They are stark reminders that I have been through so much and, as sad as it is to come to terms with this, I have also inflicted so much.

Because I am sorry, Nobility. You are correct. I am toxicity incarnate. No matter how much I try to hold myself back, when I am triggered, I go off. It's an exercise in futility. After 36 years of being alive, the most progress I've ever had in being a better person was thanks to you. But I still have a long way to go. And for that, I am sorry.

I am sorry because you think I've given up, but the reality is, I am letting all of this hinge on a belief. A belief that you haven't. A foolish belief, it seems, but one that I hope you would come to realize before it's too late. Because I believe this is worth it. But I need you to see it the same way, or else I'd be in this alone all over again.

Because as sorry as I am, have you ever asked yourself, really, if you were? Your answer to that may very well determine our fate. 

But this much I know: this is the last time I will ever be this way for anyone. And maybe that's for the best.

I'm sorry. Yet at the same time, I'm left to ask: are you?