Last night I brought you into a conversation and instantly regretted it. (One of those ‘right words/wrong time’ situations, or maybe the other way around. It was late; I was unclear about a number of things… Man, you know who I could always talk to about shit like this? This Virginia/Seattle dude, Fedge.)
So now, in the light of day (rapidly waning as that light may be; which is to say, yes, my sleep cycle is still fucked), I needed to say I’m sorry.
Also: this will be our last public conversation (one-sided as it has lately been).
I forgive you, dear friend, for what you thought you had to do, and finally did.
And (more reluctantly) I forgive me too, for not having stopped you. (I’m credibly informed that I most likely could not have done so, even if my own family hadn’t been gobsmacked with horror-inducing crisis, and I’d been fully tuned in.)
I forgive us all, and leave this last of our goodbyes here, gently.
Because you, friend, are not some Twitter cliche, some social media bullshit meme to be tossed around. Among us, you were a troubled but fundamentally good and kind man; your memory is not best honored via flippant anecdote. (We’re both better than that.)
So. No more screenshots, outbursts of cussing you out, etc. (We’re good.)
I still don’t know where you went, but I hope that as you left us, some kindness found you. (I’ll seek mine from right here. Maybe later we can compare notes?)
ETA: Look, wiseass. I said this would be my last public address to you, not that I wouldn’t bring all my OCD to bear on continuing to edit the damned thing until kingdom come or what have you.