Don't Slide: An Apology to Myself

There is nothing that I can say that will make it up to you.
What can I say?
Sometimes I just fuck up.
Sometimes it’s minor, and sometimes it trashes everything you’ve worked for.
You worked so hard.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I messed up: I was an arrogant, selfish, thoughtless idiot.
I was wrong.
I can’t make excuses, even though they are on my tongue. I long to blame someone.
But I’m to blame.
I will try to make it up to you, even though I know you will never trust me again.
I will work to right this wrong the only way I know how.

And I reply:
You fool.
You don’t have a chance.
All the other times you’ve betrayed me—now this!
You’ve ruined everything.
You acted like a rich spoiled brat; a thoughtless piece of shit.
You didn’t think!
I worked so hard—didn’t I teach you better?
I have to live with these consequences. You do too. You didn’t think of that!
Now I have to start all over.
Get out of my life.
Forever.

I’ve said my piece.
I can’t take it back: everyone messes up sometimes.
I must go on.
Try to forget it.
Maybe some unlikely day,
I’ll forgive me.