The Apology That Lives in Silence

I’m writing this poem to say I’m sorry

For the pain and the hurt that I caused you

I know that nothing I say can make it better

But I hope you can hear me out and listen to the truth

I was going through something and experiencing trauma

That made me act in ways that were not me

I don’t want to make excuses or blame anyone else

But I want you to know what was happening inside of me

I love you and I wish I had cherished our friendship better

You were always there for me when I needed you

You were the friend that I didn’t deserve

And I regret the things that I did and didn’t do

I will never forget you and the memories we shared

You are a part of my life that I can’t erase

I hope you are happy and at peace wherever you are

And I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me someday

There’s a kind of guilt that lingers. It doesn’t scream, but it hums in the background of everything — like a quiet echo of someone you once were and someone you wish you’d been instead. This is for her. For the one I hurt. For the friend I never deserved, but who gave me her time, her loyalty, and pieces of her soul anyway.

You didn’t deserve what I put you through. And yet, you bore the weight of my pain like it was yours to carry. That wasn’t fair. I look back and see how I twisted good intentions, how I projected my wounds onto someone who only ever wanted to be there for me. I pushed you away — not because you weren’t good to me, but because you were. And that terrified me.

I gave you reasons to leave. I know that now. You didn’t walk away without being shoved out the door emotionally. I was bitter, defensive, reactive — all things I tried to justify because of my own trauma. But the truth is, I let people who disrespected me stay in my life, and I discarded the ones who showed up with grace. I welcomed chaos because it was familiar and rejected stability because it felt foreign. That’s not an excuse. That’s just the damage I hadn’t confronted.

But you? You were different. You saw the light in me when I couldn’t. You rooted for me, listened when I didn’t make sense, stood still when I was spinning out. You offered your heart, and I didn’t protect it. That’s the part that haunts me the most. I didn’t just lose a friend — I hurt one.

I don’t know if an apology will ever be enough. I don’t even know if you’d want to hear from me now. But I do know that I will never forget you. I carry the lessons you gave me in silence. I see pieces of you in every act of kindness I try to offer now, in every boundary I honor, in every relationship I try to do better in. That’s your legacy in me, even if you never know it.

One day, somehow, I will pay you back — not to erase the past, but to show that you mattered. That your friendship changed me. That I’m sorry in a way that words fall short of. I’m not ready to reach out yet — maybe because I’m still building the version of me that’s worthy of speaking your name again. But when I do, I hope to give back even a fraction of what you gave me.

Thank you for being good to someone who wasn’t good to herself. Thank you for being a light I didn’t know how to hold. I see that now. I feel that now. And I’ll never forget you.

Someday. Somehow. I’ll make this right.