I was trying to see if I could make it a full year. Just leave it all behind. Make this a blog about longing and neglect. You know, start off strong, make you laugh and cry, get your hopes up, and just when you start to get comfortable, and think about leaving your toothbrush, I start to get weird, and apologetic, sporadic, and then poof, I'm gone, like that underclassmen you dated in college who promised he'd call everyday from his semester abroad at Innsbruck. Did he meet someone else? Is he OK? Why wasn't I good enough. You've probably been sitting at home writing really tragic poetry about mymomsanerd. Lots of stuff about still waters, empty marc jacobs bags, and broken bedazzlers. I know I hurt you. I'd love for you to read it to me...when you're ready.
For real this one time, it was ME, not you. You were awesome, I just needed some time, to you know, work on me. And now that I'm back, I want you to know that I've been around the block a few times, nothing serious, but baby, you're the best. Can we just try to make this work? For old times sake? Sure it'll be awkward at first. You don't trust me. I get it. I really let you down. But everything's different now. I'm different, but still the same. You know? So like, maybe later, after you read my post about paint chips and how my kid goes to a leftist liberal elite training camp (I mean kindergarten)...can we hold hands, or maybe even make out on the train? No? Too soon? Ok, Ok, I'll be patient...because you are worth it.
I'm back bitches.