Do you feel it too?  There's a striking urgency drifting through the air these days.  Desperation and disparate ephemerality.  Maybe it's just precocious old age. 

I'm so sincerely sorry that I feel this way.  Even though I know you're not the type to ever let your intentions or emotions be transparent.  I'm writing to thin, thin air.

Do you know that half-euphoric feeling you get when you're semi-ill and slowly recuperating?  When the world is a dizzying blur and time skips with every blink of an eye?  I think my very first words to you were apologetic.  Everytime I see you the only words that ever come to mind are "I'm sorry". 

I'm just so ecstatically happy whenever I get to see you that the only compensation I can dispense is to feel eternally guilty.

Maybe it's just me.  I'm sorry.