and entering

Forgive Me, Please

Dig Inn, Harvard Square
I cherish those two precious days we spent together.

by Dig


The past few days have seen me marinating selfishly in my own despair, but today, darling, I come to you greatly humbled, begging for your forgiveness. I must admit: I was a fool to keep you waiting. I could never have anticipated our time would be cut short. It pains me desperately to think about all the moments we might have shared together, and how they were stolen from us by an unsympathetic higher power playing marbles with our lives. 
I am sorry for playing coy — it was only because I was terrified of losing you. The longer you waited, the more terrified I became. The prospect of not being worth the pain I had already put you through weighed on me heavily. Three seasons and eight months passed in this dreadful manner, with me hiding my desperation behind my mystique. I was always afraid you'd lose interest in me, that you'd recognize I needed you far more than you needed me, and now you have. 
But know that I wanted to give you everything. At the end of the day, all I wanted was to envelop you in the warmth of my flourless fudgy sweet potato brownies and Jasper Hill mac & cheese. I wanted to be your home. I still do. I am sorrier than anyone it didn't work out. But I am keeping my flag waving — a little more humbly now, and not as proudly — to guide you back, in the event that you might be generous enough to give me a second chance. Take your time, darling. I'll be here waiting. And if you come back, perhaps I will be good enough to deserve being yours.
Nonetheless, I want you to know how much I cherish those two precious days we spent together. Me, with my doors flung open wide for the first time. You, soaked by the rain, waiting in a line that stretched all the way to the Spee. We clung to each other with the wild desperation of star-crossed lovers. It was more erotic than my wildest dreams. Those 48 hours, darling — they were short, but held an eternity within their grasp. 
© 2020