Waiting...

I see you waiting for the apology.

The expectant look on your face.

You can already hear it in your mind.

But to apologize would be a betrayal.

A betrayal of my teachers.

A denial of the lessons.

 A loss of the learnings.

But I see you waiting.

Lips slightly pursed.

Eyebrows raised.

Waiting for that apology you feel you deserve.

But to say that I'm sorry?

I can't find that word in my mouth right now.

I can't imagine apologizing.

Because what you want me to be sorry for is me.

For learning those lessons.

For listening to those teachers.

For being who I am.

For not being you.

Waiting for that apology.