For letting my calls go to your answering machine.
I forgive you for taking your phone off the hook.
You rearranged everything in my life; I'm sorry I let my crazy show.
He's almost eighteen now.
I loved you with a foolish love.
A flutter at your voice
and
An I-can-change-him determination.
I'm sorry if I let my crazy show.
It was crazy to take a paintbrush to the tiger's stripes.
I forgive you, even if you're not looking for it.
If I ran into you on the street, I would feel sick
Of course I would.
But then I would forgive you.
And I would feel sorry for what you missed—not what I missed.
He's almost eighteen now.
