I feel like I owe the world an apology. I know I am supposed to stop apologizing but I am trying to figure out how to handle the shame and embarrassment I feel over things I have said or done to people I love and admire. 2 of them in particular. E and N., neither of whom have responded to my recent emails. And it pains me. It even hurts to think about it. What could I say to remedy the situation?

Dear E.

It was wrong of me to not write to you in months, or communicate beyond Likes and Hearts. And then to reappear to tell her that my niece will be working in NYC this summer and is looking for a sublet and if E should have a vacancy in her basement apartment and would like rent coming in, I offered to connect her with my niece. It’s so embarrassing to reappear like that, out of nowhere. And then to ask for a favor. But it was more of an inquiry and an offer than a favor, wasn’t it? Because the rent from my niece could help pay E’s bills. Still it felt like a favor. And I’m so embarrassed about that.

And then my email continued with attempts at witty, self-effacing banter. But I added that I hoped that things were getting resolved or were less stressful with her divorce. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. The last time I spoke to you was almost a year ago. Back then she were looking for a divorce lawyer. But maybe the divorce is not happening. Maybe it was totally inappropriate for me to mention it. Maybe I’ve become an acquaintance to you, and who would want an acquaintance to mention things that a mere acquaintance has no place asking. I wanted to express concern. It would have felt strange not to acknowledge that. But maybe I overstepped my bounds. It’s a big overstep to take when one resurfaces from nowhere, as I have done. What kind of friend is that?


Dear N

I am confused about my I have not heard from you in over a week when in the past you respond to my messages almost immediately. Was it because I asked you to read a story I had written that was not very good? Was it because I was not completely suppressing the infatuation I am not letting myself feel for you which I am convinced would make you feel uncomfortable? Was it because I asked if you could send me suggestions for zines and publications where I could send my writing? Did you think I was using you? Did you notice a leakage in my suppression container? Really, I hope you would not feel like I would ever act upon it.

If either E or N would respond, my world would be greatly profoundly uplifted. But without hearing from you, I am bereft. Embarrassed and bereft.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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