An apology letter to my fish.




To Hitler, my beloved Mollie.

You must understand that I loved you first before all my other aquatic pets. I still love you.
I love you more than Kim Jong Il, the algae eater who fares the storms and survives when all others have not.
I love you more than the other Mollie that went crazy and died a week after being in our new tank. You survived. You are loved.
I love you more than the 5 new fish I recently added to my tank, not worthy of being given names.
I love you more than the one large golden split tail fish that died the day after joining the troupe.
In my love, I was blinded, Hitler, my beloved Mollie.

I woke one morning and noticed that the tank was not as colorful as it used to be. I even ranted on Facebook about how one of my small colorful sunburst fishes went missing. I blamed you. To my everlasting shame, I blamed you.

I claimed that you ate the poor little guy. After all, your tummy did look a little bloated and more yellow in color than the usual orange. It was a fitting guess especially if you had swallowed the poor yellow sunburst fish.

I didn’t outright blame you without leaving room for other options. I also published the following claims, listed on my Facebook page for all of heaven and earth to view:

“1. The fish indeed scaled a ladder up and out of the tank and is now halfway to the ocean on the passenger seat of a trucker named Jerry’s Rig.
2. The biggest Mollie (Hitler is its name) ate the poor thing.
3. I’m just blind and the fish will turn up eventually.”

I humbly request your forgiveness for any pain I may have caused you Hitler, my dear Mollie. I understand that your vanity, your pride, and your esteem have been wounded by my poisoned sword of accusation.

Even my husband started making me feel guilty as he claimed that there were never three small sunburst fish to begin with. Oh, he made me go mad and crazy within my own skull. I knew for a fact there were three small sunbursts and that YOU, poor one, had eaten one of them (to my everlasting shame).

The next day, I woke to find yet another fish missing, the second of my three small yellow sunburst fishes. I ranted and raved, searching all around the edges of the tank, up on top, down at the floor of the aquarium. Alas, I blamed you again for eating the second one. You did indeed look full as if you had just swallowed a whole other fish. My deepest apologies for commenting on your weight gain Hitler, my dear Mollie.

Even algae eater Kim Jong Il looked a little fatter, that bottom feeder.

My husband heard my cries and my pleas to search the aquarium for evidence of a second missing small yellow sunburst fish. I commented to him “Look with your own eyes, dear husband. Hitler our Mollie grows fatter and paler, it must have eaten the second sunburst fish!”

His eyes met mine as he said “There was always only one sunburst fish, dear wife.”

Oh madness! Oh Meloncholy! Have the gods conspired against me? Now he claimed that there was only one to begin with when I clearly know there were three!

You merely floated along, dear Hitler my Mollie, and listened to the whole debacle.

I ranted and raved, pulled at my hair, and screamed in my madness that the second fish had gone missing in two days.

Again, I pose my deepest apologies for my boorish behavior. I humbly beg your forgiveness, Hitler my sweet Mollie.

As my feet tread in circles on the floor, pacing and pacing more, I watched my husband pass by me and walk toward the kitchen where your tank faces. He was still muttering about how there was only one sunburst yellow fish.

My mind was stark mad and I was on the brink of insanity. I wanted evidence—nay, NEEDED evidence that you had indeed killed and swallowed my other two sunburst fishes. You just stared at me with those deep dark eyes of ebony. I shall never doubt again.

My husband exclaimed “Ho, wife! Come and see! What was lost has been found!”

I shrieked and exclaimed in madness “What? The missing fish?!”

I crossed the chasm of insanity and returned to back to a new elevated level of existence. I peered over the high counter to look at what my husband was pointing. Horrified and utterly humiliated, I drew a deep squealing breath to see one of the missing fish lying dead upon the counter.

OH My dear Hitler, my sweet Mollie, PLEASE forgive me for my ignorance! I knew not that one of my sunburst fish indeed crawled out the tank and died upon my counter.

My screams rivaled a scared banshi.
My horror mirrored that of death itself.
I screamed until the glass in the windows shivered.

When my screams subsided, my eyes filled with tears and I dropped to the floor, contrite.

My husband countered “Wife, check that plastic bag. The other might be in there.”

Oh the HORROR. How could I bear to find the second missing sunburst fish in the bag on the counter when I had just so recently judged YOU, dear Hitler my Mollie, of the crime.

I lifted my head and rose to my feet. I gingerly picked up the bag my husband recommended me to pick up.

I know not why I’m recalling this to you, Hitler my Mollie, as you were watching and listening to the whole ordeal all along.

I searched the bag and lifted it above my head to peer at the contents settled at the bottom.

OH the HORROR! The yellow sunburst fish was lying there on its side all shriveled up and hollow of life.

OH DEAR HITLER, my sweet Mollie, Accept my pleas of sorrow. I was wrong. I was so wrong. The two sunburst fish indeed sprouted legs and left the tank on their own accord. You did not eat them or commit cannibalism on your fellow fish-men.

I ask your forgiveness for commenting on your weight gain and enlarged belly–I had reason to believe you ate your fellow fish-men.

I ask your forgiveness for my rudeness in blaming you for death. No being alive should have to live with that kind of guilt over his or her head.

Please, oh Hitler my dear Mollie, forgive me.

I am yours if you will have me.

Yours eternally,

Jenna Weaver







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