When I saw a glimpse of you the other day, just passing through, I don’t know which I felt the most– joy, guilt or sadness. I’ll just say it: I didn’t appreciate you as I should have. Neither did most of the people around me.
Everyone in this town just treated you as a nuisance and rejoiced when you weren’t around. You were just a bore, a downer, a pooper of parties. If you weren’t there for a day or more, well, we all rejoiced.
I said rude things about you all the time. When I went on a bike ride, for instance, and you showed up, I wouldn’t hide my irritation. OK, you did interfere sometimes, for instance when I was trying to get housework done. But I should have known I couldn’t do without you. We couldn’t do without you.
When I think of how we used to complain and moan about you, make disparaging comments when you appeared, and the childish rhymes we used to sing to you in the playground in the hope you’d go away, I cringe. I really do. And I wish I’d known what it would really be like without you. Because now that you’re rarely seen, I miss you. We all do.
Well, there are a few people that still grimace when you make one of your fleeting appearances. They’re either especially stupid, or unusually resolute in not facing up to reality. I thought I did appreciate the many things you do, but I guess in the end I really had to be shown, because I really do know how important to us you are. Now that you’re not here, we’re beginning to understand how we took you for granted.
I miss the sight, the touch, the smell of you.
Please come back.