A Haunting Catharsis - Dear America

Dear America,

Lately, I've been plagued by a series of nightmares that have given me a lot to ponder. I wish I could say these nightly terrors are of more conventional things like monsters, masked killers, or a series renewal to Keeping Up With the Kardashians, but alas, it's something a bit harder to define. It's a mirage of mercy, forgiveness, and closure that I'm not sure is even possible or deserved.

Why do people apologize? Is it truly a selfless act to make the aggrieved feel better? I suppose that when I was a younger man, I may have thought so. These days I wonder if it's simply a selfish desire for that sweet release of catharsis. If you're looking for answers, I'm afraid I still don't know.

Long ago, I had a friend. We'd known each other in a galaxy far, far away and our friendship had extended well beyond state lines. We were different and went down wildly contrasting paths, and somehow we managed to stay connected years later. At some point though, that connection got snipped like a phoneline in a horror movie. What I wouldn't figure out, until it was too late, was that I had hurt my friend. It was the worst kind of insult: the one where the asshole doesn't know he's an asshole. By the time I realized what I'd done, and who I'd been, it was all too late. 

We haven't spoken in over half a decade now, and yet I remain haunted by dreams of a shot at an apology. Do you ever have similar dreams? A wise man once said that not all friendships or relationships last to the end of days. That sometimes, things simply end or fade into nothingness. I have no doubt that these words are true. With that being said... I still miss my friend. Some signals are lost forever, but perhaps our paths will intersect again one day. I'll be keeping the shades at bay by the water's edge until then.

Sincerely,

Calhoun