I've been wrong, countless times. I've been wrong in the way I've treated people, the way I've let emotions overpower me, the way I've contradicted myself and those around me. I've been wrong, and I've dealt with the consequences.
I've been dishonest, deceitful, distrustful and most of all, ignorant.
I've been, and even though deep down, I hope I never will be again, I'm weary.
'You're a coward,' she spat, showering me in a hot spit, burning my guilty face. But that's another story.
Just another story.
I've been wrong in a good way. I've been decieved, ignored, lied to. I've been hurt. But the wound of being broken compares little to the guilt of breaking, and I know that says something.
It says something, because I've been right a few times as well.