When a Million Sorries wouldn’t make a Difference.

Omo,

Nights are usually the hardest, that moment just before I doze off is when my mind does a flashback and my heart beat increases its temple by a million. It’s when I feel the pain, get a taste of my own stupidity and cry out hot tears that substitute for what I can’t say.

This is probably one of the very few things I’d regret for the rest of my life – as I write this, the only thing I can remember regretting. One of those mistakes that changes one’s life forever.

All I want to say is I’m sorry but words even when written are not enough. I know, so I wish I could show you, explain to you, open up myself to see how much I hate myself, but I can’t. So in a flimsy attempt to try to express my apologies… I write this.

But I know no amount of sorry would make a difference. I see how terribly I have dented our narrative and changed the dynamics of what we had.

I see how I have gone from been one you’d take a bullet for to one who apparently glitters but is not gold. I see how badly I messed it all up. I know how and I’m sorry. I won’t ask you to trust me, forgive me…I mean, I’m not sure I’m worth any of that.

I really don’t have an excuse. I could have avoided it, stopped it… Fled but I was too weak to.
But it wasn’t intentional. I thought about you – us from the first minute, first milli-minute… talked about you and why nothing would ever work, why I’d never even try to make it work but my actions never went with the direction of what my mouth was saying, what my heart was saying. I was too weak. Prayed but too weak to act my part.

Honestly, you knowing was relieve. It was killing me not being able to talk to you about it.

smh! you were the one person in the world I badly wanted to talk to, but couldn’t. You are the one person in the world I still want to talk to but I can’t.

I’m sorry is all I’d ever be able to say! Sorry for a million things but I know even a million sorries for the million things cannot change back the narrative. So I’d learn to deal with it. Maybe one day, it would get easier for real. Maybe a night would finally come when I wouldn’t feel myself tearing apart.

In the meantime, Know that I know how inadequate words are and I’m sorry forever!

It won’t change nada, but I want you to know I’m sorry and would probably write more…till I feel I have found the words close enough to be able to make some sense.

Yours’

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