(The following Wednesday after Amanda's verbal slip-up, a small strawberry cake is left for Coda. It's poorly iced in "funfetti" icing. There's a letter, in small block handwriting:)
CODA, I'm sorry. I don't know how to talk to people, apparently, and even less about talking to someone with the kind of trauma you had. I'm desperately trying to reach out and touch someone, and you and the others made me feel like I wasn't alone. But the gravity of your situation is much worse, I understand that now. (To say "I can't imagine that" would be dumb, right? Because if I couldn't, then how could I realize what I said was so wrong?)
I would like to be your friend, and I can promise if you accept me, I won't speak of your situation unless you bring it up. And even then, I'll listen rather than try to sound like I know what I'm talking about.
Because I don't. I'd like to understand, but I can also handle talking about music and how terrible of an icing job I did on the cake. Haha?
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timeasmymeasure
(forward-dated to the 12th so I don't forget)
Date: 2021-05-06 10:19 pm (UTC)CODA,
I'm sorry. I don't know how to talk to people, apparently, and even less about talking to someone with the kind of trauma you had. I'm desperately trying to reach out and touch someone, and you and the others made me feel like I wasn't alone. But the gravity of your situation is much worse, I understand that now. (To say "I can't imagine that" would be dumb, right? Because if I couldn't, then how could I realize what I said was so wrong?)
I would like to be your friend, and I can promise if you accept me, I won't speak of your situation unless you bring it up. And even then, I'll listen rather than try to sound like I know what I'm talking about.
Because I don't. I'd like to understand, but I can also handle talking about music and how terrible of an icing job I did on the cake. Haha?
hopefully,
Amanda Brotzman