But I don't feel like beating my head against yet another raging misunderstanding. I don't feel like defending my position when it's clear to me that my position is the last thing he wants to hear. He wants his commiseration. He wants to feel justified in his anger and dissapointment. And shit man, who doesn't? When you feel wronged, you want to swim in it until it fills up your pores and makes your fingers wrinkley. I know that feeling.
So I won't rob anyone of it. Becuase it's so oddly satisfying.
A few things I *will* say though...
A list of excuses is not an apology.
Making an ass out of me concerning people and things I care about and doing it so blatantly, without the first thought as to how that might make me feel was simply one *more* thing on a list that I'm sure you're well aware of.
My suprising feelings of affection lately were a SUPRISE for a *reason*.
Forgiveness runs out and apologies wear thin. But I was willing to give and accept before I read this interesting piece of self righteousness and that lovely bit the other day about it taking "two... no... three weeks" for me to just get over how disgustingly offended and embarassed you made me. The people you shit on, live on the air, broadcast around the world, they got over it. They told me 'no problem'. They understood and didn't blame me. Becuase they're good people and that's the only reason. But me, I've just had too much of this crap. It's not just me and my *kooky* moods. This is cause and effect.
Normally, I'd feel horrible about ripping into someone that I actually gave a shit about a scant week ago. Someone I'd been doggedly defending against every person who expressed their incredulity at why I just keep taking all this petty crap (and yes, there's been more than one).But at this moment, I don't respect you enough to put it in an email.
I'm sure there will be a spin for this. The martyr flayed open and wronged. Paint me as evil and twisted and fucked up and bad.
I don't care.
And hey, maybe it's cliched just becuase it's cliched.