So I thought what I would do is get it all off my chest in one fell swoop, just list everything I've ever wanted to say or confess right here, right now. My hope is that in doing so the burden of these unsaid things will be lifted, and they'll stop bugging the shit out of me. If this doesn't work, I might have to resort to a My Name is Earl approach, but I'd prefer not because I'm just really lazy.

1. I'm the one who wrote "fuck" on an index card and left it where Mom and Dad would find it. I knew they'd never blame me, because what 7 year old knows that word and can print it so neatly, right? And I knew you'd get in trouble, which was my plan the entire time. In my defense, I think I was having a moment of temporary insanity due to mental strain after you locked me in the basement when your friends were over. Would it have killed you to let me hang? Huh? You couldn't let me watch one stupid movie with you? Bitch.

2. I'm the one who put the crickets and the Daddy Long Legs in your bed. I'm 100% certain I was having another moment of temporary insanity, probably as a result of the stress of finding one of your friends hiding under my bed when you were babysitting. Bugs in your bed is the very least of what you deserved for scaring the living shit out of me, though judging by your screams, I'm guessing it was akin to your worst nightmare. I'd feel bad, except I'm still experiencing night terrors and facial tics nearly 30 years after what you did. Asshole.

3. I'm also the one who glued all the pony tail holders to the picnic table with nail polish. Again, I knew you and your friends would be blamed for it. I didn't really have a good reason for that other than I just felt like it. Sorry.

4. Gypsies did not steal your Barbies. I melted all their hair with a magnifying glass, and I knew you'd be pissed, so I buried them in the neighbor's garden and fed you that line about the gypsies so you wouldn't find out what I'd done. In my defense, I did it all in the name of scientific experimentation, so you can take comfort in the fact that your Barbies' sacrifice was not in vain. My apologies to any gypsies whose reputations were ruined due to my unfair lie.

5. I'm the one who plastered the school with the fake campaign posters for the school election, the ones encouraging everyone to give David Gilmour the write-in vote: "Vote for David Gilmour - His knees are 10 times sexier than the other candidates," "A vote for David Gilmour is a vote for 50% fewer pubic hairs in school lunches," etc. I'd apologize to the people who were blamed for that particular prank, but they were all douche bags, so whatever.

6. I am also responsible for cramming 7 rolling chalkboards into the men's room in the commons (no easy feat, let me tell you), for stealing all the staplers from the second floor, for super gluing the quarters to the floor in the locker room, and for stealing all the coffee pots from the teacher's lounge (though I did have help with that last one).

7. I'm the one who set your phone to forward all your calls to the local radio station. Really, you were asking for it by not changing the default password on your account. Foolish boy.

8. Those pants really do make you look fat. I know I told you they didn't, but I lied. You were seriously pissing me off that day, and I wanted a little passive aggressive revenge. Seeing you flirting around the bar in those hideously unflattering pants did my evil, petty little heart good. Also, hot pink is not your color. I know I told you that you could totally pull it off, but you can't. At all. Yuck. Sorry.

9. I borrowed that one sweater you totally loved, and I wore it out to the bar when you were out of town. While at the bar, I spilled beer on it, dumped an ashtray on the sleeve, and then set it on fire. Well, to be fair, I think it was just the hairspray on the surface that caught fire, and that part wasn't even my fault. Heather threw a lit match at me (although I can't really remember why anymore. I do remember that it was the funniest fucking thing on Earth at the time, but then again, what isn't funny after 10 or 11 Kamikazes, right?), and there was a flash of flames, and then Heather tackled me to the floor trying to smother the fire. We rolled around on the nasty, beer-and-other-substances-that-should-probably-remain-unnamed covered floor until all signs of fire were extinguished. By the time I got home that night, the sweater smelled like a combination of frathouse carpet, the inside of a tennis shoe, burnt feathers and an ashtray. Heather and I doused the thing with perfume and stuck it back in your closet behind a whole bunch of crap in the hopes that you'd forget you even had it, and that by the time you found it again, we'd be long gone. Sorry. Well, except, not really all that sorry, because you were a bitch and a half and the worst roommate I've ever had. Dude, did you really think I wouldn't find the grape juice stain on my rug? And I know damn well you were the one who always kept secretly eating my stash of Lucky Charms even though you claimed to hate them. And what the fuck is with you and waking up at 6AM and singing at the top of your lungs? Jesus. Now that I think about it, I wish I'd just set the damn sweater on fire while you were wearing it.

10. Just when I think you can't possibly get any more selfish, you open your mouth and out flies the most self-absorbed thing I think I have ever heard anyone utter. And I look at you in shock, thinking surely you'll laugh at any minute because you were just kidding and you weren't really trying to make this about you because how could you possibly make this of all things about you, and yet the laugh never comes. And I realize that you aren't joking, that you are making this about you, and you really are the most selfish, self-absorbed, self-centered person on the entire face of the planet, and if I could wipe that smirk off your face with a goddamn baseball bat and not get sent to jail, I surely would.

11. You can't feed someone painkillers and methadone all day and then get pissed when all they want to do is nap, stare at the carpet or watch cartoons. It's not fucking reasonable, jackass.

12. Your perfume smells like a scented feminine hygiene product, and it makes me a little queasy. I don't know what it is about your body chemistry that fucks it up, but you really need to stop wearing it. Seriously. Gross.

13. To be honest, that night was such a complete blur that until about five minutes ago, I thought you were your brother. So to answer your question, yes, yes I'm really surprised to hear from you. How've you been?

*****

Well, there it is. And you know what? I think I really do feel better! This confession business truly is good for the soul. And now I'm free of pent-up guilt, and I have no more secrets!

Well.

Mostly, at any rate. There are still a few fairly ugly little numbers tucked away, but I'm not ready to release those on the world yet. Baby steps, people, baby steps.

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