The Non-Apology I Wish Kristen Stewart Had Issued

Delight as you may in the gritty details -- the car, the empty parking lot, the age difference and the grainy photographs -- but do not mistake love of scandal for a legitimate need to hear me apologize.
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To Readers of Perez Hilton and Twihards, as well as Sometime-Devourers of Celebrity Gossip and the Generally Apathetic Population:

I have been told to apologize. I'm being honest with you here, because to be anything less than forthcoming would only further the deceit for which I am supposedly apologizing -- you see where I'm heading with this. I have been told to publicly acknowledge and seek atonement for a very public misstep that has caused very private pain, and while I am sincerely sorry for those fans whom I have disappointed, my feeling is that they are far fewer than my public relations team believes and that I am rather apologizing vaguely for bad behavior to a general population who, in fact, should be thanking me for providing their weekly dose of schadenfreude. After all, I am an actress, not a politician or an Olympic athlete -- isn't it my job to entertain?

We're off on the wrong foot here already, aren't we? Here is the thing. I owe apologies -- many of them -- but those apologies are between me and the very specific people to whom I owe them: My family and Rupert's, my friends, my colleagues; even my public relations team, who -- despite their questionable advisement on this statement - I have subjected to a veritable media shitstorm. Of course, I owe an apology to Rob -- those words, most of all, should be heard by no one but us. I have hurt him deeply, and to publicly discuss these wounds is to both belittle them and to offer up his pain for general consumption. Love letters of all kinds should remain between lovers.

Those of you who are passing judgment on my transgressions not against Rob but against my unofficial title as a role model (given the nature of my career and, specifically, the books that launched that career) present me with a conundrum. You might have hoped I'd be a better young star to whom your daughters could look up, and it would be fair of you to do so. I would think, however, that somewhere between the moment I had sex on-screen or decided to play Marylou in the upcoming On the Road that designs on my upholding a conservative sexuality for public consumption would be lost; a young and ambitious star may be many things to her fans, but it was never in the cards for me to be any kind of arbiter of sexual morality (you stay strong, Tay Swift! You're still a virgin, amirite?). Let me be clear: This is not an excuse for my behavior, but rather why I believe I do not owe vague and public apologies. Delight as you may in the gritty details -- the car, the empty parking lot, the age difference and the grainy photographs -- but do not mistake love of scandal for a legitimate need to hear me apologize.

Finally, and to further the note of why there should be no public designs my romantic decisions: I am 22-years-old, and have been acting for over half of my life. There are no excuses here but simple truth: I had a relationship with a man who was not simply twice my age and married with children but also my director; as impossible as it may seem for me to have any perspective on the scenario, I do not believe the situation can be all that unimaginable. Furthermore, on my age: I would ask any of you to find me a sexually-active twenty-something (again, stay strong Tay Swift!) who has never before made a single ill-advised sexual decision.

The best teacher is experience, isn't it?

Kisses and ear nibbles,
K.Stew

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