No wonder you were so stung, and I was merely guessing.
Enjoy your girl's night out, Black? I hope you didn't do anything terribly low to impress me into thinking I was wrong.
While I loathe to admit it, I haven't lifted a finger, not one, in an effort to find my way home. Nor do I think I ever will. I've been pardoned my transgressions, forgiven my sins, and all when I'd only come to truly believe I'd never be redeemed. Who hasn't desired a clean slate? Why turn from that to return to exile, to accusing glares and hateful words? True, I feel terribly alone, but I have hope.
And I can again see the sun and feel her warmth. I can still taste her on my lips.