or when you try to apologize for a nine-month-old event.
the words have been there for nine months. maybe i was pregnant with apologies yesterday, and now they're being birthed into existence.
that's a hella weird thought.
"Hey, I'm sorry for exploding on you last November. I shouldn't have reached out in the middle of an anxiety attack because I become angry and destructive when I do. I messed up like that today, and now I really see where my fault was. I know my apologies don't mean anything at this point, and I don't care, but I just wanted to give a sincere apology for messing up the way I did."
i don't care if he doesn't respond. i know he's seen it by the list of names of people who've seen my snapchat story. i just wanted him to see that i now know where my fault sits.
i said sorry to the person who shattered me first. i breathed for the first time in nine months, all because i exploded again.
(note: some explosions cannot occur without oxygen, one of the many things needed for human life to go on. so maybe i've been breathing all along. maybe.)
YOU ARE READING
Smart Girl
Non-Fictionthoughts from the smart girl. //the journal of wren// //highest rank #2 in non fiction// //all names of real people interacted with here are altered from their original versions for privacy's sake//
