Gave away my love like spare change in a hobo’s cup; now I haven’t a dime. Spare me your grief. Spare me some time. Lend me your hand in marriage. Writing vows in dry-erase marker.
There were three of you that night. Two of you stayed behind. Maybe you’re amateurs or just proud. Maybe you think you were clever giving us your real names. Maybe you don’t understand how easy it is to find you online. Or maybe you just didn’t think I’d bother to check. But checked I did. I stalked you harder than a Taylor Swift fan. Of course, I have no evidence to prove your crimes. And you’ve been smart enough to keep that tablet off. (Or, at least, off when during the times it matters.) Maybe you sold it already. Clearly, you’re clever enough to not pawn the damn thing. Or post it on any of the obvious marketplaces. At the end of the day, none of this matters.
I’m not angry with you. I bear no grudges. Life’s too short to feel disdain for someone who have no ties to other than a crime. And I don’t know how you were raised. What your upbringing was like. I don’t know if your father stuck around or pulled a fast-ditch attempt like mine did. I don’t know if your mom works two jobs to make ends meet much like mine did when I was a kid. I don’t know if you have older siblings who did their best to protect you against outside threats like mine did. Or tease you like mine also did. I don’t know if you had a grandmother who kept you in line. An aunt who took you to school every morning. Or if you had a family who loved you no matter what you do. And I don’t know what sort of friends you keep, but I have a guess.
I don’t know if you have a special person in your life who makes you smile even when things suck. I don’t know a lot about you other than you stole from me. And I feel sorry for you about that. I feel sorry that you felt the need to take advantage of a poor decision. I feel sorry that you come from a world where this is something you just have to do. Whether it’s to support a habit or support your needs of survival. I just hope you get what you were seeking when you stole from me. And that you find a way out of that world. Because it’ll catch up to you. It always does.
And when it does, I hope you the sort of people in your life that I do in mine.