The thank you never said

Everyone stand up, I have to talk and I want you to pay attention to the pain of discomfort:

I want to apologise. 

I want to put my hand on my chest and hit myself while I apologise because I never understood.

I grew up with these shades of black and eyes closed. I dragged myself along the currents that I wanted and were comfortable for my belongings. I became this being that couldn’t recognise itself in the mirror.

I apologise because as a child you told me the rules and marked the differences. You explained to me that you tried even with failures and stutters. You were giving your life for me to be an example of my future.

I apologise that it took me twenty-four years to realise that it took ten seconds of your silence to turn my back on you.

That it was accessible and timely for me to spread the word of mistakes and to expel you from my stories. Because it was outdated and uncomfortable and the lie was fashionable in my friends.

I am in churches and synagogues, in temples and Vatican, in houses. Looking for the one who could forgive me as I didn’t see what you were doing. 

I stayed with this hoax chosen among my kind of closing eyes and pointing fingers.

In that, I feel this pity in my sternum that does not hurt me but feels disappointed and that leaves me without emotions.

I apologise that I was wrong. 

My sacrifices were born from yours, my footsteps were given because you sacrificed yours. And your lips are purple for every time I've lied.

I apologise that I have failed my own ideals, believing myself straight and narrow. I thought I knew from Y to C and that I could count from 33 to 99. But, I was unable to accept that there was someone to be thankful to.

I have you all standing up because we made a serious mistake. 

One would say the eighth sin, we have been spoiled and wrong. We have taken things for granted. In which we close the throat with excuses, the eyes with landscapes and the hands tied.

In which I apologise because I haven’t said it to you.

T.A.