Shame. Day and night, he bears it like a cross. He cannot cast it off, cannot free himself from the awful burden of his offense.
Years ago, he went too far. At the time, it made sense. There was a gap in his life. He was simply filling it.
And so he did something he knew was wrong but felt so right, and he enjoyed it. But illicit joy is always fleeting, and soon he was left with only regret.
The one he had wounded forgave him long ago. But he cannot forgive himself, and that is the real shame.
Years ago, he went too far. At the time, it made sense. There was a gap in his life. He was simply filling it.
And so he did something he knew was wrong but felt so right, and he enjoyed it. But illicit joy is always fleeting, and soon he was left with only regret.
The one he had wounded forgave him long ago. But he cannot forgive himself, and that is the real shame.
