Random Apologies of Varying Sincerity…

Posted: May 25, 2008 in creative nonfiction, Sarah Einstein, writing
Tags: , , ,

I am sorry that I said I was sick when really I just wanted to lounge around on the couch, knitting and perling myself into a quiet place.

I’m sorry that there was something I could have said that would have allowed you to stay, and that I couldn’t figure out what it was, so you had to go.

I’m the one who broke the window in your mother’s garage when we were seven. I was throwing rocks at it, angry at you because you said Jewish girls couldn’t be cheerleaders. I’m sorry I didn’t fess up when your brother Kevin was getting yelled at, your mother shaking her cigarette in his face and calling him a liar.

I’m sorry for telling you I was a virgin just so you’d feel special. That being said, I was not.

My dog hasn’t been feeling well and it simply wasn’t scoopable. You have my apology.

I am sorry that I fell in love with him before I told you that I had fallen out of love with you, and even more sorry I wasn’t gracious enough to make sure you never knew that.

I’m sorry for picking the chicken out of the soup and then telling you it was vegeterian. I was broke and there wasn’t anything else in the house to offer you. Besides, the last time I saw you, you were eating a cheeseburger and smoking a Marlboro. How was I to know?

When we met, I loved to go out dancing until the wee hours of the morning. I’m sorry for getting old, and for loving the comfort of our big old bed so much I can’t force myself to go honky-tonking these days, oh my love.

I’m sorry that I took your white shirt from Mexico when we were dividing up our things, but I am not sorry that it looked better on me.

I am sorry but you can not have another treat. The vet said only three a day. Don’t give me that look. It’s not going to work. I’m not paying any attention to you.

Alright, fine, damnit… but don’t come back in fifteen minutes and ask for another one.

I’m sorry that I let my love for you turn into a needy, grasping thing.

I’m sorry. It’s too cold and early. You walk the dogs. I’ll do it tomorrow. I know I said that yesterday, but this time I really mean it. Really. Now turn off the damned light and let me go back to sleep.

  1. Dody says:

    Sarah – I have found another Memoir publication called Memoir (and) or maybe it is (and) Memoir – anyway – this is WONDERFUL. You should print it out and submit it. I ran across a lit mag the other day that says it is searcing for “prose that reads as poetry.” I think this piece qualifies.

    Submitting is a ton of work, but I love the challenge. I will keep my eye pealed for mags that fit your writing style and let you know – I actually think your writing is exactly what many lit mags look for.

    Which publication do you fantasize about being published in? Mine are Ploughshares, Oxford American, Glimmertrain. I used to fantasize about Kenyon Review, but I just don’t think I am experimental enough. How do you feel about some of these publications? I value your opinion more than I can say.

    Anyway – loved this piece so very much… Dody

  2. Great read. I’m going back to read it again right now.

  3. Mike Mullen says:

    This American Life did something like this recently. I am so excited to hear about someone else besides me hearing about the Kenyon Review! I still keep my subscription, but I don’t know many non-Kenyon grads who get it. There is some good stuff there, but sometimes it’s just not scoopable.

  4. sarahemc2 says:

    You too funny, Dr. Mike! Actually, I think every new writer wants to get into The Kenyon Review. Although I don’t know anyone who subscribes to it for any reason other than wanting to be published in it… so maybe you’re on to something.

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