The Story of Where That 'I'm Sorry' Was Directed - 983

By noon, the rain began to fall steadily, just as the forecast had predicted.

And it was also just after noon when I realized, after dropping off a thank-you note for a package I received the other day, that I had written the wrong date.
I thought I had checked today's date on the calendar, but I just remembered that I had written the date from last week, one row up.

'If I wrote that date, the package from them hadn't even arrived yet...'
I muttered with a straight face, but it was already too late...
I mean, that's a thank-you note from either the past or the future, I'm not sure which...


In the past, I would have been panicking, thinking, 'What should I do! What should I do!', but now, all I can think is, 'Well, I've already mailed it... I guess I'll just have to hope they laugh at me for being a silly person.' Seeing my own thick-skinned nature or perhaps my quickness to give up, I felt a strange, creeping realization that 'Yes, life has definitely moved forward...'

I also vaguely think about how my former self, who used to say 'What should I do!', was 'carrying so many things within that...'

It seems to be wrapped in things that look 'correct' at first glance, like 'I've done something wrong' or 'It will be rude to the other party,' but perhaps in that panic, the 'other party' didn't even exist, and it was all about 'me who made a mistake' or 'I have to recover from my mistake'...

It feels like my current, resigned self is running alongside the part of me that thinks, like a bystander, 'I must have done this kind of "substitution" a mountain of times, taking advantage of the fact that it wasn't in my consciousness,' while thinking, 'I've really done something quite something...'

Of course, I truly mean it when I say 'I will be careful from now on,' and I did everything I could to follow up, but... in the end, perhaps the whole set includes taking responsibility for everything—even if it makes the other party angry or leads to them cutting ties with me—and truly accepting and swallowing that reality.

Humans tend to 'clutch' onto various things, whether consciously or unconsciously, but I've been thinking a lot lately that whether the contents are good or bad, in the end, we probably just have to 'open our hands and let them go'...

Not clinging, not running away, just letting things pass by me, saying, 'Well, that's that...'
Regardless of whether it had meaning or not.

Is it because of the steady rain, or perhaps because of my foggy head?
It was an afternoon where I was thinking about such things, one after another.