To The Cyclist Who Swore At Me

I'm really sorry I bummed you out,
so badly you had to call me a f&%#ing idiot.

Hot sun,
crowded cars,
morning traffic.

I thought there'd be more gap
between me and the next car,
and less gap
between you and me,
one human being and another.

That space instead
would be filled,
with understanding,
patience,
and a shared grimace at the traffic.

But you exaggerated the space between
and filled it with hate.
Presumably on the assumption
that you were simply retaliating
to the same attitude from me,
with equal and therefore naturally justified force.

You lived like it's an eye for an eye world.
And I'm trying not to.
But I fail all the time.

So I cried.
Hot tears,
running down and filling my sunglasses.

I hadn't cried like that for a while.
Humiliation.
Regret.

The melting sunscreen stung my eyes,
perhaps the natural justice you looked for.

Sorry.