The Apologies I Never Heard

They never said they were wrong. Not once. Even when their silence cut deeper than anything they spoke aloud. Even when I stood in the middle of the storm they made alone, drenched, and forgotten. I kept waiting for a message, a glance, a whisper anything that sounded like sorry. But pride is louder than guilt in some hearts. And I? I broke without making noise. They’ll say they cared. They’ll say they didn’t mean it. But they won’t say they were wrong. So I carry the apology they never gave folded in the corners of my memory. It’s not justice. It’s not closure. But it’s mine. And sometimes that’s all we get.