I’m Taking Sorry Back: the Emptiness of Apologies

I fell in love with this beautiful stranger the other day on the M train. There was this rush-hour cubic foot of space that she and I tried to conquer simultaneously. We noticed each other at precisely the same time, withdrew from the territory in question, shared a lightning bolt of direct eye contact, and both muttered, “sorry” at each other. Jinx! The synchronicity of the exchange was so glorious that had I known her for any bit longer than three seconds, I’d have leapt into her lap, taken her by her gorgeous face, and flooded her with every compliment I could think of. The power with which I experienced this New York moment startled me. WTF just happened? Ten minutes later, off the train, I no longer remembered this angel’s face. But what lingered was the connection I felt with her at that instant. It didn’t feel like either of us was saying, “It’s my fault,” but rather, “It’s not your fault.” Especially because we met over the word that has lately become a f

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