I know what I did is exactly what an asshole would do. But just let me explain, neighbor. 

I know you were probably getting ready to leave for work this morning and look at that: a car parked so perfectly right in front of your driveway, blocking you in.

I'm sure it almost looked like it just had to be out of spite, after all, the whole street was empty, the driver could’ve parked anywhere and chose to park right in front of your driveway. I'm sure the only reasonable conclusion you can come to with that information was “What an asshole!”

Listen, I get it. I'm not writing this to argue with you. I totally deserved the ticket that I got. I just wanted to explain what happened. 

You see, when I was parking my car last night, I pulled up in front of your driveway and I meant to reverse back along the curb, into an actual spot. But honestly, I forgot to reverse. You see, I don't even remember my drive home last night. Right before I parked there, I was driving back home to my apartment from my house.

I was driving back home from my house. 

And when I was at my house, there was this glass French Press that was on the counter. 

On my counter.

And it didn't belong there. It wasn't mine, and I know it wasn't hers. It belonged to someone else. Someone else who was making themself at home in my house.

So when I was parking last night, I was just trying to wrap my mind around how I managed to not smash that French press, because that's all what I wanted to do. It would have brought me such relief to deathgrip that thing and wail it on the floor with all my might, to see it smash into hundreds of pieces that would never be able to be put back together again.

Oh, it would have felt so good. So as I was parking my car last night, I was just trying to think about how I managed to not smash that French press. And it started to dawn on me, because I realized what would have happened. I would have smashed it would have felt so good, neighbor. And then I know that two seconds later, Dane, my dog, well, my ex-dog, would’ve heard the glass break and come running in the kitchen to make sure I was okay.

And he's a big goofy fella, that Dane. He would’ve been uncontrollable, and jumping all around  that floor, wagging his tail, happy to see me and just trying to make me feel better. Only, he wouldn’t have even realized he was jumping around on all this glass; he would’ve torn up all four of his paws. It would have been a bloody mess, it would have looked like a crime scene. And I wouldn’t have had a problem leaving a mess

But I didn't want to hurt him.

So I didn't lay a finger on that French press. I didn’t trust myself to even get within arms reach of it.

I walked out of the kitchen, to the front door and I said goodbye to my dog. My ex dog. Then, I got my car, I left my house and I drove back here, home.

I don't remember anything about that drive. It's one of those drives where you're surprised that you made it back home because you really could have ended up anywhere.

And I know that’s not your business, not your concern. 

I just wanted to explain, neighbor. I’m sorry. When I blocked you in last night, I just wasn't thinking. Well, I was thinking, it’s just, I was thinking about that French press

and my dog

my ex-dog.

[Signed,] 

Your neighbor