SO SORRY IF I HURT YOU

Can we really undo the damage?

Sorry.
Is it enough?
Do words really fix what’s broken?
Or are they just a quick band-aid over something deep?
Does “I’m sorry” really make it right?
Or is it just an acknowledgment of what can never be undone?

I hurt you.
Did I know it then?
Did I even realize the weight of my words, my silence?
Probably not.
And now, I’m left with the emptiness of knowing that I can’t take it back.
No matter how much I wish I could,
I can’t unhurt you.
I can’t erase the pain.

How often do we hurt the ones we care about?
Not with malice.
Not with intention.
But with the careless moments,
the words we don’t think twice about,
the actions that leave scars we didn’t even know existed.
And when we realize it,
we’re left standing,
feeling like we’re drowning in the guilt of what we’ve done.

I want to take it back.
I want to fix it.
But I can’t.
I can only say I’m sorry.
And even that feels too small.

Can you forgive me?
Do you even want to?
Or is the hurt too deep now?
Is the trust broken, and no matter how many times I say it,
it’s never enough?

Maybe all I can do is own it.
Own the mistakes.
Own the hurt.
And hope, somehow, we find a way back.

But what if we can’t?
What if some things can’t be fixed?
What if the damage is permanent,
and we’re left with the pieces of what we once had?

And yet, I still say I’m sorry.
Because it’s the only thing I can offer.
Because I care enough to acknowledge the hurt.
Because even if it doesn’t fix it,
it’s a start.

Sorry.
Maybe that’s all I have.
But it’s real.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.