I’m Sorry.

I’m sorry for convincing you, you couldn’t do it, when you could have.

And I’m sorry for telling you not to even bother trying.

I’m sorry for telling you that you deserved less. When you probably deserved a lot more.

I’m sorry I didn't stand up for you and allowed you to remain there all alone. Afraid and silent.

I’m sorry that I made you forget, like it was nothing.

I’m sorry that I make you apologize for every thing you say, as if your words aren’t valuable enough for anyone to waste their time hearing.

I’m sorry I make thinking so unbearable for you sometimes, that all you want to do is sleep.

I’m sorry I don't always let you sleep.

I’m sorry I didn't allow you to cry, when you wanted to so badly. When you needed to.

I’m sorry I waste your time making you lie there, when you could be doing something that you love.

I’m sorry I make it so hard to go outside sometimes. Or to get up.

I’m sorry for making you hide away. For making you feel like you are wasting away.

I’m sorry for always creating a problem when there isn’t one in the first place. And I’m sorry for making them all so exponentially large, that they become all you are able to see.

I’m sorry for overanalyzing.

I’m sorry for all of the “what ifs.”

I’m sorry that the worst possible outcome of all the scenarios I’ve created myself, and made you go through in your head, at least ten times each, is the one that I conclude with. The one that I convince you to believe.

I’m sorry for convincing you that the ones you love want nothing to do with you.

I’m sorry for putting you through that far more than once. Every. Single. Day.

I’m sorry for making you feel like your world is ending. Like all has gone up in flames and you can’t breathe.

I’m sorry for suffocating you.

With my own two hands. Wrapped around your lungs like they’re nothing because it’s just too easy.

I’m sorry that I let things pile up on you.

I’m sorry that I bury you.

I’m sorry I make it near impossible for you to resurface.

But somehow you always make your way back up. And then I push you right back down again.

I’m sorry that I set you up for failure. So often.

I’m sorry for limiting you.

For denying you of the ability to dream.

For denying you of the ability to pursue.

I’m sorry for everything that you’ve missed out on because of me.

I’m sorry that I’m so indecisive to a point that it is disabling.

I’m sorry that I’ll never be able to understand you completely. But believe me I desperately want to.

I’m sorry for making you feel so useless. So hopeless.

I’m sorry for ripping you apart.

I’m sorry that I scare you sometimes.

I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I want to.

I’m sorry for telling you that you are a pain to be around.

That you are unintelligent.

That you are ugly.

That you are repulsive.

That you are annoying.

That you are pathetic.

That you are a coward.

That you are not capable.

That you are not valued.

That you are not wanted.

That you are not worth it.

That you are worthless.

That I hate you.

I’m sorry for lying to you.

I am so sorry for all of the guilt that eats you up. That paralyzes you.

Especially that that cannot be justified but resides in you still.

I’m sorry for giving up on you. When you needed me the most.

I’m sorry for making you feel so alone.

For making you fear your future.

Because half the time, I can’t even be there for you now.

I’m sorry for putting you through so much pain.

I’m sorry for the home I have made in you and what I host in it.

I’m sorry I even had to write you this letter,

But I needed to tell you.

I needed to see all of these thoughts and these feelings become tangible. I needed to give them somewhere else to go for awhile, because they’ve been weighing too heavily on me lately. On you lately.

And regardless of if I have the guts to actually say them to you out loud, I think you deserve to hear them.

Along with a few things I am not sorry for, because I am not sorry for who I am. I am not sorry for my brain chemistry. And I am not sorry for forcing you to be stronger than you ever thought you’d need to be.

And I forgive you.