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I never got to apologize for this. But I am sorry.
Over the years I have made a genuine effort to own the things I got wrong. Some of those wrongs were small. Some were not. Most I have been able to address directly with the people involved. But there is one person from my teenage years I have never been able to track down, and if there is any chance he ever comes across this, I want him to know I am sorry.
I was at his place one day, a group of us hanging out the way teenagers do. He had a small can of spray paint. I do not know what came over me, but I put it in my bag before I left. It was maybe a three dollar item. It was not about the value.
For weeks after that he asked around about what happened to it. He had a feeling it was me. I looked him in the eye and denied it every single time. That part is what has stayed with me. Not the taking of something that was not mine, but the lying. Repeatedly. To someone who trusted me enough to have me in his home.
I was fourteen. That is not an excuse. Plenty of fourteen year olds manage not to steal from their friends. I knew it was wrong when I did it and I knew it was wrong every time I denied it afterward. The fact that I have built my adult life around a strong sense of integrity makes that memory sting more, not less.
If you are out there and you remember this, I am sorry. It was a small thing that said something bigger about who I was at that moment. I have spent a long time trying to be someone different than that kid. I think I got there. But I still owe you that apology.
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