I am sorry.

I am sorry that I do not remember
Your favorite book
Anymore.
(Though you never read much, did you.)

I am sorry that I have forgotten
Most of your phone number
And all of your garage code, too.
Though I think it started with a 4.

I am sorry that I can no longer recollect
What you do on a Thursday afternoon
Or the silly name you call your grandmother
When you speak to her on the phone.

Oh, that's it.
Thats what you do on Thursdays.

I am sorry that my mind has prevented me
From remembering if you prefer
Chocolate or Vanilla.
Hey - you always did the baking, anyways.

But, to be quite honest,
I am more sorry for remembering.

I am sorry that I remember
The innocent, hopeful, wide-eyed smile you gave me
On our very first night.

I am sorry that I have not forgotten
When you lifted me onto your washing machine
Looked into my eyes,
And declared that you had never been so
Insanely,
Madly,
Passionately in love before.

I am sorry that I can still recollect
What you do almost every other night of the week.
Even Tuesdays.  Your "busy day."

I am sorry that my mind has just not allowed me
To be able to forget you.