what it means to say i'm sorry

it was a wednesday.

it was a wednesday and before i could change my mind i hit send and then everything changed.  only nothing changed.

i was still me

i was still left with myself--only i didn't have you to remind me i was still me.  i didn't have the you i wanted to discuss it all with, didn't have the you that would shake your head and say i did it wrong or that it was okay or that i really should have called instead.  i didn't have you to tell me i was a hero or a coward or a piece of shit hypocrite.  i didn't have.


today there is space.  a hole that i don't even try to fill.  space to be every me.

picture a street with a manhole cover.  now picture the space that hole takes up, it is big enough to swallow one whole man. or not.

now look inside that hole and see the gulf of stars on the other side.  a constellation of possibilities.  a (w)hole lot of black.  a johnny cash song about when the night wind wails:


nobody knows. . .nobody sees. . .nobody knows. . .  


but me