for whatever reason you’re here. I cannot change the past, though I want to. I’m sorry that you are hurting, and that the trajectory of your life was so rudely, so deeply interrupted by my own — just as earlier mine was interrupted, and I only compounded the traumas, and passed them on to you.

I am living my amends. You may or may not believe that, and you’re right to doubt. I’m too old to spend the rest of my life chasing myself, trying to blunt any reality of emotion or consequence.

I am working through those steps that so many have before. Were it up to me, I’d never have been born — but I was, and I’ve done things for which I don’t expect any pardon. But I no longer look for oblivion by obliterating the peace of others. I promise.