Sunday, 24 May 2009

Sorry seems to be the hardest word...

There are moments when it sits on my lip, waiting for its number to be called so it can perform its duty; that of healing. Once the battle is done with myself, so much time has elapsed that to speak that word would lead to my own embarrassment. I hide behind my coarse locks and the word falls out, more by accident than by intention. So simply it is, yet it holds so much power to cure ills, to bring brothers and sisters together and rebuild burnt bridges.

I tend to be the girl that holds her head up high, turns and walks away because I feel justified in my opinion; in my conviction! I wasn't wrong. I said what I believed. However, believing you are right does not make one right. It does not mean that one should not say that word. I walk away with so much pride that my shoulders sag from the pressure and my feet become heavy with guilt. By this time the event has revolved around my head countless times like a broken record; dissected and put back together. It has been reinterpreted, shelved, taken down, re-reinterpreted to an extent that I cannot even remember how the true event played out. The result remains the same. I was a perpetrator.

I say to myself: " my knees are bruised from apology!!!"; and so they have been. From a young age, I remember saying it so many times that it became a part of me. Even when he hurt me, I said sorry. Even when I was right, I said sorry. Even when I was not the protagonist, I said sorry. SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY. My knees are bruised for senseless apology! The well in my eyes have dried up!
You have to understand why I am this way. It isn't simply because I don't care or I'm a mean bitch. It is more to do with my perception of where I will stand once those words are uttered. It is the fear that once I say it then that person gains control over me. It is almost as if I have had to cede the throne of my own self respect and dignity, relinquishing the throne to one who is not worthy of it. I feel like the beggar in rags pleading for his life before the king.

I need to learn. No, I need to believe that when wrong it is okay to say sorry. It takes nothing away from you but give you the gift of humility, to admit to yourself that to err is human. It is the hardest lesson to learn. It is the hardest word I've ever and will ever speak.

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