Maybe he's dying.

Life still sometimes surprises me. As a product of my generation, I'm legally obligated to disdainfully point out life's general predictability and then feel vaguely supercilious while I jump into a swimming pool of iPods and Wii video game systems. But very occasionally, life surprises the crap out of me.

Such was the case a couple of days ago, when I opened my email inbox to see a message from Shawshank. That Shawshank.

I KNOW!

Despite the unforgettable nature of Shawshank's actions last August, it took me a few moments to recognize the email address. After all, time makes everything better (except milk), and I hadn't given him much of a second thought since fall, save the occasional punchline in my blog. Plus, I kind of thought he was either dead or afraid of me.

The email was an apology, of sorts, and it started with the words, "You probably don't remember me."

I don't know if he truly believed that sentence, or if it was just a poor attempt to downplay the unkindness of what he'd done. If I didn't remember him, he could take comfort in the knowledge that he musn't have been that damaging. I hate to burst his bubblewrap, but I'm not the only one who remembers him with assured clarity. I told a few of my friends that I had heard from him, and these were a couple of their responses:

• Wow. Maybe he's dying.
  (Snugs)


• Maybe he found himself on the other side of the prison bars, and called you as soon as he got out?
  (Lucia)


• What if Shawshank has been in AA for the last eight months? And now he's reached Step Whatever where he has to make amends with everyone he hurt.
  (Elen)


• Maybe "he" was actually his own evil twin, and is really a nice guy.
  (Miss M)


• Maybe he has really bad short term memory problems, and you finally moved into long term memory.
  (Artemis)


• I vote alien abduction. Maybe now he has superpowers!
  (MIQ)


• I vote for a small scale zombie apocalypse which he heroically and singlehandedly derailed.
  (Dumb Brunette)

I could go on (and on), but I think I've made my point. I've also almost immediately forgotten what that point was, but I think it had to do with how nobody has forgotten Shawshank, and also how much I enjoy my friends.

The rest of his apology follows:

You probably don't remember me. It's [Shawshank]/Department of Corrections/Lincoln/long time ago/guy who you were supposed to meet. I can't believe that this much time has passed since we last talked and I really don't know what to say at this point without sounding awkward and like an asshole...but first thing is first. I know that we tried soooo many times to meet and that it seems as if I always had something going on...which I did. That being said, I did NOT intentionally stand you up...nor would I ever do that to ANYONE. It has kind of actually taken me this long to find the balls to tell you this, even though I barely know you. That night I was told in a mandatory fashion, that I would be staying at work for the entire night. And due to the nature of my job, I'm basically shut off from the outside world while I'm at work. When I got home at six in the morning, I noticed that you'd made several phone calls and texts...and I could tell that you were really hurt and disapointed when I didn't respond. And since we'd made and cancelled several plans, I figured that you'd just grown tired of waiting on me.

I guess I just need to tell you that I'm really, really sorry for everything. I hope that you've found a guy that's completely awesome to you. This has been eating at my conscience for about 8 months at least and I just needed to get this off my chest. I'm sorry. Best of luck, [Meldraw].

[Shawshank]

Since I'm momentarily speechless, I'd like to allow my friends a chance to speak for me once again:

• Dude, the PRISONERS get a phone call each. You don't get a state mandated fifteen minute break somewhere in there? You can't say, "Well, shit, boss, I had to meet this girl tonight, so I'd better call her and tell her what's happened." Because you know what your boss will say to THAT? He'll say, "Yes, I guess you'd better!" and hand you the goddamn phone so what. is. the. issue. here?
  (JenEx)


• "This has been eating at my conscience for about 8 months at least and I just needed to get this off my chest." Because, you know, it is all about YOU. What an asshat! It must have really been weighing on his conscience for him to respond EIGHT FREAKING MONTHS LATER. Plus, learn how to use a spell check, please. And where does he get off blaming YOU for his not calling you: "And since we'd made and cancelled several plans, I figured that you'd just grown tired of waiting on me." I figured you were tired of waiting on my sorry ass, so I decided to wait at least 8 months to apologize. Just to clear my conshunz. And I love the "Best of luck, [Meldraw]." Hey, now I feel better. Best of luck. What an idiot.
  (Duck)


• I hope he’s found a nice inmate to keep him company. And I also hope he drops the soap. I wouldn’t even bother writing him back. But if you do, wait at least 10 months.
  (iGirl)

Having now gathered my thoughts, I don't think my reaction is quite as vehement as my friends' (bless them), but I'm certainly not feeling especially forgiving. I have a hard time believing that there was no possible way to find a telephone at some point that evening...or any of the other 225 or so evenings that followed. I also think that the entire email was laced with excuses and blame-deflection, to say nothing of the obvious desire to take his job to Vegas and marry it. I'm not going to get all nitpicky about how I didn't text him at all and I only left two messages on the night to make sure he wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere, but whatever.

Still. He did apologize. I do think he feels bad, and it's obviously been bothering him enough that he's still thinking about it, eight months later. The flimsiest definition of courtesy dictates that he absolutely should have contacted me much sooner than this—about eight months sooner—but at this point, he really didn't need to write at all. So, I have to give him that. I guess.

And now I have a dilemma. How do I respond, if at all? I feel like I should at least acknowledge his effort, but part of me wants to say something a little bit biting. I don't plan to berate him or anything (I think he may be doing that all on his own), but can I really just say, "Oh, it's okay, all is forgiven, la la la, flowers puppies rainbows!"? What can I say that underlines the fact that what he did was not okay, but not be a jerk about it? Or do I even bother? Help me, commenters. Comment.

I'll tell you one thing: whatever I decide to say, I'm taking my sweet time about it.