I'm in love with Brett Dennen. His new CD has been on repeat in my car since Saturday. I use the term CD loosely because I actually bought his new album on iTunes and downloaded it onto my iPod and plugged my iPod into my car... but you get the idea... it's 2008.
I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry for anything. OK, that's a lie. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I pretended like everything was okay when I ran into you in the parking lot. I gave you a hug and made small talk and smiled. I went home with a sick feeling in my stomach. I couldn't keep anything down for hours. I'm sorry about that. But my apology doesn't go to you... it goes to me. I'm sorry to me that I still find it so necessary for everybody to like me that I let people treat me poorly and then go out of my way to make sure they don't feel any discomfort in my presence. I should have made you feel uncomfortable the way you made me feel uncomfortable. Because I'm not the one that did anything wrong. In fact, I went out of my way to give you every opportunity to make it right. You purposely and pointedly hurt my feelings for trying to do something nice for somebody else, even making me cry and then coldly telling my I was going against the family's wishes... a family I had spent lots of time (hours upon hours) with just recently (did I see you there?... no.) and talked to them and asked them how to help. You spread rumors about me (yes... I hear things too). And then, I sent you an email. A disgusting email where I complimented you, gave you details, confided. And you ignored it. You ignored me. You purposely avoided me at the funeral then again at the shower. Well... guess what? I've been avoiding you for years! Ever since that day at La Fuentes when my other young friends and I invited you along with us during a break. We were all on our way there and remembered the last time we were there with you and how fun you were. We called you up and you came to meet us. Remember? We ate and laughed and had a great time... until the check came. As we all reached for our wallets, you reached for yours too and said, "I suppose this is the reason you invited me... so I could pay!" And slammed down your plastic as the waiter took it away. We sat stunned. Maybe you thought it was guilt, but it was anger. We didn't know what to say so none of us said anything... until you left. We all knew why we had invited you and it hadn't included money. We ate there regularly and knew how to pay a bill. But we all decided we couldn't invite you anywhere any more because we knew you'd always assume we wanted you to pay. We didn't want your money, we just wanted our friend. But being in your presence reminded us that you thought so little of us. We were your girls... how could you think so little of us? We still wonder about it when we get together. Where we went wrong, what we did to make you think that. But now I don't have to wonder any more. Because I didn't do anything wrong. You did. You changed. Maybe money is such a huge part of your own self-worth that you put it on other people. Maybe money is so important to you that you think it's important to everybody. But still I tried. I wanted you to like me still. I wanted your approval. But I don't care any more. I don't need a friend that thinks so little of me, makes me cry and offers no apology, avoids me and treats me bad. I don't need you any more. And I'm not sorry.