"I'm Sorry"

It never is truly enough to say, “I’m sorry.” Those words, spoken in so many different variations of tones and phrases, after time, lose their meaning. It was no different in this occasion either, even with the false sincerity seeping from every ounce of the girl opposite of me. This stranger, this unfamiliar form, never once faltered as their gaze bore into me, waiting for a response. But how can I give one? I knew this stranger once to be as timid as I always felt, knew the pain they masked and battles they fought, the battles we fought together, at yet, in this moment, I knew nothing of this stranger but her name. The constant competition, the typical fighting, always striving to be the best; it made this situation all the more familiar because once again she’d come out on top, once again she’d won, and once again I was left on the losing side of things, the failure. Did it really matter if I was miserable, as long as one of us was happy? Did it really matter that I didn’t win? Was it sick that even this was a competition? The thoughts kept up their on-going stream through my head, questioning everything I’ve ever known to do, but it was no use because this stranger wasn’t a stranger, she wasn’t some unfamiliar form, she was my best friend, and no matter how much it hurt, losing our friendship wasn’t worth anything as stupid as this. With all the strength I could muster, the words formed and came out in a calm, even tone, “It’s okay, I understand.” And with a defeated smile, my numbing body retreated to its familiar shell of lost hope.