I don’t know how to start this, so I guess I’ll just say it. I don’t like the person I used to be.
It’s strange, looking back, realizing how easy it was to make excuses for myself. How I could justify every mistake, every sharp word, every time I let someone down. I used to think that as long as I meant well, as long as I wasn’t intentionally hurting anyone, then it didn’t really count. But it does. It always did.
I replay old conversations in my head, ones I can’t take back. I think about the times I should have listened more, the times I should have apologized sooner, the times I should have walked away instead of holding on so tightly that I ruined what was left. It’s like watching a movie where you already know the ending, but you still hope, just for a second, that maybe this time, it’ll play out differently. But it never does.
I tell myself I’ve changed. That I’ve grown, that I know better now. And maybe I have. Maybe I wouldn’t make the same mistakes today. But the thing about growth is that it doesn’t erase the past. It doesn’t take away the people I’ve hurt or the words I can’t unsay.
I think about reaching out sometimes, just to say, “I’m sorry. I wish I had been better.” But I don’t know if it would make a difference. Maybe it’s selfish to want closure when I was the one who left things broken. Maybe all I can do is move forward and try to be someone I don’t hate looking back on.
I just hope it’s enough.
