On the bus home today, I looked out at the snow, happily day dreaming about lemon cake and strawberries. I had a rather rude awakening; a woman poked me with her umbrella. Now, I’m sure she didn’t do it on purpose, because I’m a nice person (and modest too), and who deliberately pokes nice people with umbrellas? I immediately turned around to face my poker. Not to confront them about their wrong-doing… but to apologise. Yes, apologise. I apologised for being on the wrong end of a pointy umbrella.
If I counted the times I say sorry in a day, it’d probably be the same as the amount of Haribo I eat in a day. Why are we so polite, even when it’s not our fault? We say sorry for being stepped on, for being shoved out of the way, for being given the wrong change.
Then there are times when we can’t bring ourselves to say sorry: the times when it matters the most. The times when you hurt someone’s feelings, and you don’t know how to make them feel better. Sorry seems too late, and the longer you go without saying it, the harder it gets.
I’m sorry for being sorry.
And as is my habit, here’s a video of the actual song 🙂