I’m Not Sorry

December 27, 2009 at 12:25 pm (One Particular Angel)

“Those are some powerful words.”

Mizelle said that to me once, after reading a long, soul-baring letter I’d spent days writing her. I get occasional accolades, but that is one I’ve always remembered. I’ve always enjoyed spinning a yarn, and have missed my time here. I’ve been revisiting this site the past few days, dusting off the cobwebs.

One project was to back up my writings. It dawned on me that if my computer ever fried out, or if WordPress suddenly pulled the plug, I’d be screwed. So I’ve been meticulously cutting and pasting my way through the last three years-worth of posts, mailing them to an independent e-mail account. Like me, it’s cheap and effective.

I haven’t been rereading everything, but when I do stop for a minute to stare, I am impressed with how I’ve come along as a writer. While my style or attempted use of five-dollar words hasn’t changed much, and the puns live on, the stories flow easier. I always feel better when I get up and write in the morning, so I’m making it part of my daily routine. You may not see it every day, but I’ll be doing it.

Back to powerful words. I learned a lesson about punctuation yesterday. I’ve been flirting/chasing hanging out with a girl named Angel, and we text-message back and forth a lot. While I get all wordy and stuff, spelling things out, etc… she tends to abbreviate things to a minimum. She sometimes types in ebonics, which I’m learning, but damn, girl, you need to use commas.

As I spent the final hours of my last day off preparing to run errands. I noticed I’d received a text message. It was from Angel. “Im off now.”

Great. It takes me 45 minutes to get to downtown, and she sent this message about an hour ago. Shit.

I texted back, “Damn. Just got this. I suppose I’m dreaming to think you’d still be DT?”

No immediate response. I charged off to the MAX, beelining downtown. If she was still there, I’d catch her!

As the train rolled up in front of the mall, the cell phone vibrated my nipple. It was from her! Could it be? I flipped the phone open and read her message:

“Im not sorry.”

WTF?

Was this one of those cyber face-slaps dismissing me? I quickly reread my last messages to her, looking for anything whiny/possessive/guilt-inducing. Nada.

I wrote back, “Huh? I’m only sorry I missed you. Can’t think of any reason to be sorry for either of us. Are u okay?”

Quickly back, “Im good.”

As I walked along, it dawned on me. Her trauma-inducing message was lacking one thing, a comma. “I’m not, sorry.” As in I’m not downtown any more, sorry I missed you.” Not “I’m not sorry I missed having to put up with you,” like my original thought. We quickly exchanged clarifications, and all is well.

So, as I go back, looking at old posts, I’m torn as to whether to edit a bit, or leave them as they are.

I think I’ll leave them alone, to remind myself of whence I came.