I thought about my conversation with Luca all night. “Sometimes, sorry is not enough,” I said. It’s amazing how powerful we think those two little words should be. But in reality, they’re just words. What do we actually expect to happen when we utter them? What does sorry even mean? Why are we taught to say “I’m sorry” when we’re wrong if it doesn’t make the other person feel better? What are those words supposed to do? Absolve guilt? Right a wrong? Demand forgiveness?
Sorry is definitely not enough in my case. It can’t undo what I did. And it won’t repair my family or ease Ali’s pain. Just as he said, I have things I need to figure out, and doing so will take longer than he’s willing to bear. I have to accept that. I thought I had already, but it’s painstakingly real now. Perhaps, down the line, a pathway toward reconciliation will present itself. But, until then, I need to accept that Ali and I are through.
A few days ago, I said, when I was ready to talk, Billie would be the first person I confess to. But my other friends ambushed me, showing up at my house uninvited, forcing the truth out of me before I was ready. After a few days, and self-reflection, I think it’s time I reach out to her. She is the only elder left in my life, and I want to glean from her wisdom. Between her age and the pain and drama she found herself in, surely she’ll have a different perspective. I kinda regret not getting closer to her. Heh, I regret not developing any of my friendships. Despite people calling and showing up at my house, I feel completely alone now.
