I made the poorest decisions at my weakest times. I did not have the benefit of strength or better judgment—all I had was an empty heart. I had an empty room filled with my regrets, and an empty answering machine glowing in red double-zeroes.
My cell phone was quiet, and other than the random junk mail and bills, my mailbox was empty. I had reached another bottom
In a fit, I thought I would be better off alone. I wanted to push myself away, so I did. I said the worst of things in anger. I said the meanest of things to the closest of people, and after the dust settled, and the wreckage was clear, it was unclear who was punished more:
I learned that I am capable of an amazing craziness, and as a result of that craziness, I misused friends and severed relationships.
My family life shrunk from a house, two car garage, a pool, wife and kid, to a used car and a small, two-bedroom apartment in the upstairs of a private home.
I made apologies, but some of them fell short.
I tried to right the wrongs, but that didn’t work.
I promised, “I’ve changed,”
“I’m not the same as I was.”
I said, “I’m better now,” but apologies will not always overcome the damage.
I learned certain things are irreversible.
I learned, in some cases, the best amends is to leave someone alone.
If I keep apologizing, then the apology becomes more about me and less about who I am apologizing to.
I learned to apologize through behavior. I was reminded of an old lesson:
“…It is better to show by example and live through attraction rather than talk too much and live by promotion…”
And most important, I learned that I can’t always fix my mistakes, but I don’t have to continually pay for them either.
A good friend reminded me of this.
Sometimes, the most healing word to say is “Goodbye.”