I’m sorry.
I abandoned you, and the excuses are hollow; like an empty, rotting log on the forest floor.
I defend my actions, hoping that I can sleep at night; the reasons fall dismally short when I wake.
In the daylight, I numb myself to ease the guilt.
I try to swallow it.
Like a piece of stale teacake, the guilt gets stuck in my throat. A sip of tea does not dislodge it. A sip of tea, fails to ease the pressure I feel in my stomach.
I distract myself.
I immerse myself in an ocean of ‘things to do’.
The guilt does not drown. It floats to the surface again.
The only choice I have is to try again.
I will meet you, and face you and your pain.
I wish I could run.
I have to stay.
I have to start somewhere.
I’m sorry.