the threads in her head

An Apology

Today's the start of wrongs. And I know history will repeat itself, perhaps sooner, hopefully later. At any rate it would be naive to think that there would be no more clashes, no times when we rubbed against each other, purposefully hurting, purposefully wounding, purposefully ignoring the other's care and concern.

I could say a simple sorry. I can trust in the magnitude of your graciousness to accept it. But allow me to be more specific, to transcend the limits of the English language, for sorry is overused, being the only word to express regret. It's used in funerals, consolations, apologising... on and on.

May I seek your forgiveness? And if I be so bold, may I ask that you continue to show this grace? I know it's almost akin to asking for the mountains to be moved, for who can predict the future, who can predict that you would always have the strength, or that I would never do something that seems so irreversible. But grant me this hope of a promise, just the very hope.

You know yourself it isn't true that it means nothing to me.