a few things for which i am unabashedly ashamed

1. the (growing) list of unread books tucked away in several places in my room.
2. the way my mind blanked when a friend said he met someone from my recent past.
3. the way I talk about things in the wrong way, or in a manner that mildly offends people.
4. the way my memory fails me, the way I can't remember places and faces and names and having to admit that I only remember people when they either offend or impress me. 
5. the way I remember other people because my perception and opinion, while fully formed, are often unfair and unkind and less forgiving 
6. the way I tolerate myself and inconsistent behavior
7. the way it takes me (too) long to start or finish (don't read that the way Kat does, with her feline grin, a second voice that coaxes out the subtext)
8. how, despite my best effort, new things tend to scare me. 
9. how, last night, I didn't know what to say to a friend. how often this happens.
10. how last night I peeled peanuts and wanted to weep for her because I didn't think she deserved the truth or the last few weeks. how I wanted to ask another friend to justify his completely logical claim to a 'vocal minority'. how I wanted her to be angry because anger is easy. how i wanted her to react how I did because that was something I understood. 
11. the little I can do to change what matters
12. how I continue to rely on friendship to fix everything.
13. how I convinced myself that talking it out is the best way to solve something, the best way to arrive at understanding something, when talking very rarely factors into my creative process
14. the tally of grudges I hold

 Comrade if you read this, this is what I couldn't say last night:

1. I hope you are well and the kind of comfort I want to offer isn't rooted in understanding because we are, still, in vastly different places at this point and no ship will bear me hence. Points if you got that reference.  
2. I think you are incredibly strong. I hope that helps; I know you will move past this.
3. I hope you write about this. I've read some of what you've written and I know whatever you have will be intimate and (magnificent isn't the right word) insightful, maybe. Painful. Necessary. If we're lucky, it will help. 
4. Blood doesn't obligate you to forgive anyone. Good people do bad things, commit heinous mistakes, and survive the consequences. No good that they have ever done exempts them from responsibility.
5. I don't have a book for this. Yesterday, I wanted to give you  copy of Chabon's Manhood for Amateurs but even that won't help, I think.