I lost sight of everything that mattered in a single moment of selfishness. It wasn’t planned or premeditated—it just happened, and in that instant, I destroyed something I never imagined I could lose. The memory of it still plays in my mind, vivid and raw. I remember the rush of my decision, the fleeting sense of escape, and then the crash of reality that followed. It hit me hard, like a tidal wave I never saw coming.

Now, I’m left with the weight of regret, a constant ache that doesn’t go away. I think about what we had—something so pure, so full of trust—and how I carelessly broke it. I can still see their face when they found out, the disbelief, the hurt, the betrayal etched in their eyes. That look haunts me because I know I put it there.

I can’t change the past, no matter how desperately I want to. I can’t undo the choices I made or take back the pain I caused. But what I can do is try—try to repair what’s broken, even if it can never be exactly the same. I know it won’t be easy, and I don’t expect forgiveness to come quickly, or maybe even at all.

But I owe it to them, and to myself, to do the hard work. To show up every day, to own what I did, and to prove through my actions that I can be better. Even if it takes a lifetime, I won’t give up on trying to rebuild. Because some things are worth fighting for, even when the odds are stacked against you.