I’m sorry what I did to you today.
I’m sorry that I treated you so poorly, and I’m sorry that I yelled at you as I looked in the mirror before I got in the shower this morning. I’m sorry I said I hated you.
I don’t hate you, really. I don’t treat you right, and don’t take responsibility for my actions. For that, I am truly sorry. It’s easier to blame you than blame myself, and now, I’m finally realizing it.
Waking up each morning and telling you that I hate you won’t change things. Then, hating you and pushing processed sugary fried grossness inside of you and forcing you to run after? I expect so much of you, but set you up for failure. You can’t run on crap the same way my car can’t run on cat urine. Crap will not allow you to perform at your best, and I’m sorry for thinking it would.
Today, well, this week. This whole week was a bad week. I slipped, and watched myself slip, and didn’t try to catch myself. Every “tomorrow” became a yesterday, and I was falling further and further away. I continued to expect much more of you, but didn’t give you what you needed to succeed. I promise you, this week is behind me. It’s over. We’re moving on, but in a much better direction.
What’s done is done. It’s over. I can’t take it back, but I can make a change. And body, I promise, I will.