My Misplaced Apology

I’ve never guessed my presence as anything considerable or comforting, but it’s always brought about an energy that feels like a safe space. When you came to me with everything you’ve suppressed for so many years, all of the hurt and anger that had been bottled and contained inside that big heart of yours, I welcomed it. I watched as you caught your breath between tears to tell your story, just to take another in to defend your feelings towards it. I noticed that you never lifted your eyes from your knees, like you were ashamed of where you had been and what you had seen, beyond your control. My ears were wide open, and I wish my soul could swallow every syllable that fell from your mouth to remove that weight that made you feel so low. “So here I am.” And the air fell silent. You finished your story, and you’d let go of so much emotion that you had nothing left in that moment. I silently battled with myself and my response. Where do I comfort you? Where can I makeshift repairs so that you’re happy from here on out? I had no clue what the “right” thing to say was. So instead of anything else, I said, “I’m sorry.”  

You cracked an unwanted smile from the corner of your mouth, your face red and swollen, and told me it was okay, and that YOU were sorry for rambling on.  

I should’ve told you then, as I am now, that you shouldn’t be sorry. I would, and I do, hear your words over and over, and my response has changed a million times, but it’s never been “sorry” again. I should have told you that saying sorry to you is what made ME feel better. I should have told you how strong you were. It was my moment to remind you that you had no control, and that you didn’t deserve the constant crushing memory. I neglected to tell you how much I admired the smile you carried, despite, and the rugged beauty that you wore so seemingly effortlessly, with so much sadness underneath. I should have told you that your words are inspiration and that you never have to rest in your silence. Maybe if I would have said these things, you wouldn’t feel like your bravery and strength were something to apologize for.  

“I’m sorry” wasn’t right for that moment of vulnerability you shared with me, but I owe it to you now.  



Author: Allyson Clements
Email: allyclements8@gmail.com
Author Bio: Allyson was born and raised in Mobile, Alabama with a passion for travel, making connections, and sharing her experiences with the world. She is a Media Communications major with Full Sail University, and spends her free time volunteering with animal rescue and rehabilitation. Allyson believes that there is no wrong direction or wasted time, as long as she has learned something.
Link to social media: Instagram @goat_boner


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