Getting Clean

The hardest part of getting clean

isn’t the cravings.

It’s the apologies.

The ones you owe

to people who loved you

while you were slowly vanishing.

The ones you owe

to past versions of yourself

you barely recognize anymore.

It’s learning how to say

“I’m sorry”

and not expect relief in return.

Learning how to say

“I’m trying”

when trust still feels fragile

and unfinished.

Some apologies are met with grace.

Some are met with silence.

Some come back years later

in quiet moments

when you finally understand

the weight of what was broken.

Getting clean means standing there—

in the middle of what you ruined—

with nothing to hide behind.

Knowing regret can’t undo damage,

it can only mean you see it now.

And maybe the bravest apology

isn’t words at all,

but staying.

Doing better.

Letting time believe you

before anyone else does.