“Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to.”
As always. Right?
“I didn’t mean to do this to you. I was angry at that time.”
As always. Right?
And as always you feel sorry. Right?
But you have to know that all the kisses that you later plant on the black and blues on my body seem like a million apologies to me.
I laugh at apologies. Especially the ones never confessed.