I said “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

For the 16th time.

It seemed like that was all I said these days, lost in my own world of black clouds and lightning rages. I squeezed my fingers tight, feeling the pain and stiffness there. If my knuckles hurt this badly, I could only imagine what they were feeling.

“I’m sorry, so very sorry, it won’t happen again, I promise.”

Again, that promise made for the 16th time, broken 15 times so far. When would the next broken promise come I wondered.

I knew from my words, that instinctive vocal response to my actions, this was wrong, unwarranted, needless.

I knew myself by those words. I was an asshole.