One of the last things you gave me (and one of the things I cherish most) was a copy of The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying. At the time I thought I was a Buddhist, just as young people all over America do when they're in high school and fancy themselves more wise than their peers. If I'd actually taken that book to heart then I'd not have behaved like such a fucker.

When I was an asshole, I spake as an asshole, I understood as an asshole, I thought as an asshole. When I became a man I tried to put away asshole-ish things.

It wasn't until I graduated college and was living on my own that I was forced to do some very deep thinking. Thinking about who I was and what I really wanted and needed out of life. Thinking about what life was, in itself. I haven't really come to any serious conclusions on this, and I expect I probably never will. One thing I have come to understand, though, is that we're all in this together. We're responsible for everything that we do, and we should feel responsible for the things that happen that we don't try to stop.

And I do. I recall one of the things I thought (if not said; I don't remember every word I ever uttered) before I left for college was that I couldn't feel responsible for you. That I had to worry about my own future over yours, which is of course common-sensical and practical. It's also quite cruel. You guessed right in that there was something I wanted to tell you, and it was this: I'm sorry, and I don't expect forgiveness.

I'm sorry for seeing you as little more than easy sex.

I'm sorry for not wanting to have sex with you.

I'm sorry for ignoring you for going on 5 years now.

I'm sorry for abusing your trust so many times.

I'm sorry for that "I love you like a sister" bullshit.

I'm sorry for making you listen to me drone endlessly on about myself over the phone, through IMs, and earlier in this email.

Most of all, I'm sorry for not returning the love you gave to me.

In one of the break-up letters you wrote me, you said that one day I would realize that I'd lost someone who would love me no matter what, and that I would regret it. Your clairvoyance is formidable.