Apologies/Confessions

Forgive me dear friend for looking down on you…forgive me for putting you in a nice little packet, and branding you my own. Forgive that I see you merely as boxable..shelfable..discardable..a source of power or pleasure. Forgive that I give you only to take from you; forgive that I keep record. Forgive that I expect you to give back, and that I am angry when you don’t; as if it were my right. Forgive that when I do, I feel superior to you; condescending to men of lower state with my benevolence.
Forgive the words of wisdom that fill my mouth, and my ears when you speak, forgive that I do not hear. Forgive that I am convinced that I can help you, and save you from your misery, forgive that I pity you and call it sympathy.
Forgive my prying, my banging on your windows, as if you were mine, as if your life were mine to know and control, forgive the interest in my eyes that only wants to stamp a brand on a box, with you inside. And call it mine.


Forgive me dear friend for looking up to you…forgive me for putting you on a pedestal and bowing to my knees to worship you. Forgive my carving of your name in marble. As if you were some god. Forgive that I see you as better than me, when you are just like me. Forgive that I see every thing you do as an act of divine wisdom. Forgive that I don’t allow for your humanity; that I expect your perfect acceptance, and when all I get is human, I become angry.
Forgive that I hate your very essence although I adore you. Forgive the urge I get to ram you to the floor and spit on you, because you are better, higher, wiser, brighter. Forgive that i never treated you like you were you; not the idol that I made of you. I carved out your name in marble, so you’d be mine.


Forgive me dear friend for looking right through you…Forgive that you did not pass my test. Forgive that my eyes look right through your face, to idols or boxables. Forgive that my ears can’t hear your cries for help, the screams in your night.
Forgive that I choose to ignore whatever we have in common, even our mere humanity. Forgive me for being too busy carving and packaging that I didn’t catch that yearning glance in your eyes. And please forgive that I do not find you interesting enough to talk to you or make a little effort to know one more thing about you, you know why? Because it seems to me, unfortunately, that your test scores were too low, and I only accept A-students in my world.
It is you, dear friend, that I owe the biggest appolgy. And you and me, my friend, are one. A-students need neither idols nor packages to call their own, they own themselves.


And please forgive, all of you, that I write about how sorry I am, only to make you know that I really am better than you. Forgive that I know that tomorrow I will just be doing just the same.