Dear You
Sorry not Sorry
Article by Emma Devlin, art by Ra Omar
I’m lying on my back on my bed in the dark and I feel my body going numb, unfeeling. I know I should flip over before I get sleep paralysis, but I’m almost asleep so I focus on the fan above my head to distract myself. When I do this, I wake up with dead limbs. Like right now, I´m awoken by the morning doves outside my window and I can't get up to talk to them. That's really frustrating. When I can't do something because of my own limitations, that's really frustrating. There´s nothing much to do but breathe because if I don't focus on breathing I start to panic and this dreadful feeling of hopelessness takes over and my brain thinks I’m stuck like this forever so I start to sweat and cry a little. But I´ve been through this before. I stare at my ceiling fan and think about how I’m a failure. No actually, I never realized I was one until people started to pity me. My grandma did it last week. She pitied the shit out of me. She said “it's okay to make mistakes sometimes. You look like you need a break,” and I nodded really slowly. It wasn't that bad, what she said. It's what she didn't say that bothered me. She used to tell me constantly how impressive I was for my age. Now I look tired to her. I look like a normal person.
Since I fucked up the way I did, every day feels discouraging. It's exhausting. Trying to accomplish something when I don’t believe in myself is exhausting. I have to get rid of this feeling. I realize that now as my limbs come back to life. I wave at the morning doves outside my window and they tell me to brush my teeth. I do. They tell me to brush my hair. I do. They tell me to dress in something other than sweatpants and an old t-shirt. I do. They tell me to take a long look in the mirror. I do, then I see her. She looks so pitiful that I have no choice but to help. I tell her “don't let life get you down.” She nods. “You have to bite into it.” Life, that is. “You have to swallow the failures and make room for opportunity.” I heard somewhere that people who talk to themselves are smart. I hope that´s true because it feels stupid.
I´m going to write them a letter. Myself, specifically. I really hurt her and I must apologize before it’s too late and things get awkward. That feels like the right thing to do. I made a mistake, so now I say sorry. But that's not enough, I don't think. I should explain why my actions were wrong and how I learned from them. Like in middle school: when I got in trouble, my teachers told me to reflect on my poor behavior. They said I would gain something valuable from doing so. It worked, I admit that now. And it probably made my teachers feel good, so I hope it makes you feel good too. The thing is, I don't want to apologize. I’ve done something I feel is acceptable but no one else feels the same. I have tried to justify myself but other people still disagree, and now I feel like a bad person. Yet I want to stay true to myself, so apologizing has turned into a choice between proving that I’m a good person and standing up for myself.
I gave you the letter today. Actually, I read it out loud. I do that now. Afterwards, I wanted to go back and tell you the letter was complete bullshit because I realized I sounded selfish. I wrote this letter just to make me feel better. It may have sounded insincere. You (I) will think about my words for a long time and not feel good. You (I) might feel confused. If that’s the case, I don't think I learned much from middle school. I should have apologized.
I can´t decide if I´ve made another mistake. The letter, I mean. I looked at you in the mirror, all pitiful, and spoke looking at my feet. I must’ve looked funny. But the morning doves clapped after my speech. That made me feel like perhaps the letter was the right thing to do after all. I rushed through it too quickly, but the message was clear:
Dear You,
I made a mistake. I was trying something new because I wanted to learn what life feels like in all its flavors. It’s felt very vanilla recently and I’ve been craving chocolate. I haven’t ever experienced life in coffee or rum raisin before, but now I’m giving myself the chance to. I’m becoming an explorer. There’s nothing wrong with that. Yet I don’t think I went about it the correct way. What I want to tell you is that mistakes are okay. They’re meant to happen because if they don’t, we won’t learn anything. I made this mistake and I hurt you and that’s not a good thing. However, apologizing will ignore the lessons I’ve learned from this situation. It’ll erase my attempt at living. I am sorry for getting you caught up in this mess of mine, but I am not sorry for having done it.
The thing is, I have to bite into life. I have to experience it while it’s hot, then season it to my liking. I might burn myself, but I need to swallow my failures and make room for growth. The hard truth is there’s no recipe to follow. I think that makes life exciting. Its unpredictable nature is meant to be baked with error in order to achieve success. Here’s an example: I went snowboarding last winter for the first time. I used a friend’s board. The trail I took was too steep. I knew I was going to crash but my legs were stiff and my body could not slow down and I suddenly felt the urge to scream but instead I slammed into the snow and broke the snowboard in two. Even though I had to get them a new board, even though I hurt my wrist and scratched up my leg, I wanted to snowboard again. It was exhilarating. That feeling can be addictive.
So I learned that I like to snowboard. When I made a mistake and I hurt you, I learned that life is messy and failure is temporary. I learned that life must be lived unapologetically. I learned that I am a work in progress, like humans tend to be. I learned that I am capable. I learned that consequences are life lessons. I learned that I must embrace unfamiliarity in order to thrive. I learned how to bite into life, and that it tastes good.
May you see my words as more valuable than a simple apology.
Sincerely,
Yourself