Guilty soul

Guilt had its roots sunk deep. It pricked so badly. But the headstrong me refused to admit it, simply because I was not in the wrong.

Of course, that was no consolation. I flared up at someone who dotes on me the most, whether or not it is for a valid reason. I said something that must have hurt her feelings. This knowledge intensified the guilt so much so that I was close to tears even when just relating the incident.

Even though neither of us mentioned anything about it, I caught the expression on her face. I felt bad, sorry even, that I had said such spiteful words.

But no, I did not apologise. I felt guilty, only because I had hurt someone who would never do it to me, not because I thought it was my fault.

She never was angry with me. She forgave me for everything I had said and done. And it only dawned on me that I had always been so selfish, never taking into account her feelings, blatantly ignoring just how much she loves me. Not until recent years did I realise. I can't express just how much she means to me, but I know there wouldn't be me without her.

Just a bowl of dessert for her, brightened up her face. How easily contented.

Guilty, me.