Heading backwards you'll see, 4, 3, 2, 1...announcing her gorgeous presence at the alley, the balance provided through him, not hers. And I strut on forth with another successful interaction under my belt, aware of my faults and misgivings. I own them.
Too much time has passed, no more reason left to heal all those doubts, which were/are there for good reason. Being used, over-analyzed, bombarded with assaults to that dignity I had, and lost. Each friend I regain, social interaction I conquer, heals some part of my soul. Not even broken.
Nothing in the way, wholly honest today, and back then, back all the way then, now apologize. The risks were always present, the cure heads my way in forgiveness-prone form, awaiting its arrival. I'm at fault, it's always been me, the blame-able one.
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