The Power Of Apology

I want to be better. I think most of us do to some extent or another and I’ve been working on becoming a better man in a very real way for the last year or so.

I carry a lot of weight around. I’m not talking about a physical weight, rather, a mental one. An emotional one. Many of us can look back at our lives and pick out a variety of moments that envelope us with a sense of pride, times that completely enrapture us. I do not really have such moments.

There were, of course, things that happened in my life that, at the time, filled me with joy. Plenty of times I felt true happiness and even that elusive sense of pride I mentioned a moment ago. These events that were once so sweet have since become sour. The key ingredient to these memories tasting so foul was experiencing their endings, things have simply never worked out as I hoped.

I do not tell you these things about myself in an attempt to gain sympathy. I do not tell you these things about myself in an attempt to be ‘edgy’. I tell you to try and share what I have learned about Christy.

You see, I believe the reason that things have never particularly worked out the way that I wished can be boiled to two key factors. Effort and perspective.

Indeed, in terms of effort, I have never tried as hard as I could at something for longer than a couple of hours and even those times are few and far between over the course of my 27 years. I used to think that I lacked consistency and perhaps I do but I certainly have had no problems with consistently having a bad attitude or consistently giving up. It takes effort to be truly consistent with the positive aspects of our life and it takes no effort at all to just throw your hands up in the air and say ‘if only things had been different, maybe now just isn’t the right time’.

And then we come to perspective. What if everybody was out to get me? What if nobody cared about me? What if nobody actually liked me regardless of what I did to try and please them? Why can’t I say whatever I want as long as it’s ‘just a Joke’? Should I hurt this person before they hurt me?

All of these and many more were daily thoughts. My opinions on people who had similarities to myself were low at best and people who were different to me? Forget about it! Ultimately though I think this stems from somewhere very obvious. A deep, deep self-loathing.

If I can't be happy, why should anyone else be?

Of course, I wasn’t aware I was being so horribly obnoxious. This was all bubbling away beneath the surface. It was getting worse and worse and it was all because I was simply not putting the effort in to change my perspective.

Over the last year or so, as I told you earlier, I have finally put that effort in. Things are better. I am better to be around. The weight is still here though. Whilst a large chunk of resentment is gone, guilt has taken its place and let me tell you something about guilt, it’s heavy. Really heavy.

There are people in my life that I want to make things right with but unfortunately there are also people who are no longer in my life that I'd like to make things right with. The latter proves to be much more difficult.

One such person was in my life during the winter period of 2017/2018 and she was one of those truly kind spirits. She was the sort of person that is always doing things for others, with no expectation of things in return. She seemed to be active in all sorts of communities online, communities made up by people of all sorts and shapes. Frankly, she was also a complete nerd and that bit sat really well with me.

Like a black cloud on a sunny day, I came into her life, raining down my negativity. Dissatisfied at my life but too lazy to broaden my horizons and change it. Eventually, after a few months, she wised up and had enough. That was that. We spoke no more.

At the time I was bitter that she ended things with me, now I question how she was able to put up with that person for so long. I certainly couldn’t.

So here we are in 2020. I decide I need to put a little more effort into this situation. After all, I’ve done nothing to attempt to rectify this so the guilt is justified. I take out my laptop and I just start typing. It takes the form of a letter. A short letter.

I won’t share it here, as it is no longer mine to share. After rewriting three or four times I finally searched for some sort of social media platform I could reach out to her on. There she is! Thank you, Facebook.

I send her a private message. We are no longer friends on Facebook so at that point I am unsure if she will even receive it. I feel an ever so slight bit of relief in sending it. I hope that if she does read it that maybe it can heal any lingering negativity I caused in that time, maybe restore an extra bit of faith in humanity that I have probably stolen from plenty of people. That’s the end of this story.

At least, I thought that would be the end of this story. She actually messaged back and it was a nice message. A lovely message. Not only did she appreciate me sending my letter but she said she was glad I was doing better. I am not far enough into my writing journey to be able to accurately describe the relief this message gave me. The weight that was lifted. It was incredible. Let’s just say it felt pretty darn good.

We had a nice chat and maybe we’ll even get some coffee sometime, maybe we’ll never speak again but whatever happens, I know one thing. I put some effort it doing what I believed was right and it felt wonderful.