Is it too late now to say sorry?

I’ll be the first to admit that I am horrific with apologies. It’s the hot potato in my hand. It falls into my shaky grasp and I am quick to toss it to someone else, throwing blame around and letting it burn in anyone’s hands but mine. There is no one to blame but myself, however, in the lack of communication and utmost disinterest I have seemingly displayed via technology to my friends and family back home.

I have much to be sorry for. I lose my temper quickly, I am quick-witted, or so I think, but oftentimes this comes across as being mean. I push, I stow away when needed, regardless of those I am affecting. But it wasn’t until this past week that I realized how little attention I have been giving to my friends and family. I am so focused on writing for the next website, posting the newest photos on my blog, finalizing my mid-terms and finals, exploring Bangkok: all of these things have pushed my loved ones back home to the back burner, and there they sit until they reach out, they Skype me, they group message me.

I’m here to offer my apologies. I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other since I left, even if it is just on a computer screen. I’m sorry I didn’t know about what you’re going through at the moment and don’t know how to bring it up now. I’m sorry I made you mad. I’m sorry for extending my stay.

While a public apology might seem vain, I think a lot of travelers feel this way. We hurt the people who care about us and who we care for just as much, because whatever new environment we find ourselves in is so utterly engulfing that sometimes remembering to connect with those we care for just falls to the wayside. It’s not because you are forgotten or any less important.

Even in Thailand, I find myself smiling at the most ridiculous and random things that trigger a friendship or memory of a person back in Kansas. I caught myself laughing on the beach of Koh Lanta thinking of all the fun my family and I are going to have together when they visit in May, using this time together to catch up and, of course, abuse my mother. You are not forgotten, trust me. Rather, you are the consistent variable in my life. I know you are always there for me, regardless of how neglectful I may become, and I realize that I take this for granted.

To all my fellow travelers: if we have time to spend a week on the beach, and we have time to update our blogs and Facebooks and all of the things that are seemingly only for oneself, then we surely have time for those who haven’t heard from us in quite some time. This blog is a reminder that I wouldn’t be in Thailand, finally doing what I love doing, if it weren’t for my support system back home. This blog is for those people who dealt with me even when I went to the bars with no shoes on, those who tolerated my blindsiding fits of rage when I had nothing to be mad about and those who stuck by me through everything, and I mean everything up until this moment.

I miss you all more than you know or am able to articulate. I miss your company, I miss your voices, I miss your taste in music, I miss your families, I miss my family … I miss all of it. And in case I haven't shown that, I’m sorry.

I'm also extremely sorry for the Justin Bieber reference in the title.