Mistakes

Mistakes suck.

I'm not talking about the simple embarrassing spelling error on a letter to your grandma, or forgetting to write the subject line in an e-mail to your TA which took you two hours to compose because you're in love with your TA. I'm not talking about forgetting to call your sister on her birthday, or not paying your credit card bill one month.

I'm talking about huge huge mistakes, gargantuan fuck-ups, things that you can't, at the end of the day, tell yourself will be okay. Things that society frowns upon, things that make your skin crawl and make you wonder if you'll ever be okay. Mistakes that ruin friendships, mistakes that ruin relationships, mistakes that ruin lives.

Okay, maybe I'm being a bit dramatic, but I've made a few mistakes. Very recently. That have had serious shockwaves. That weren't able to be brushed off by a simple apology, or justified by the fact that I had good intentions. They're things that I can't go to sleep at night and not think about, and they're things that make me cry one, two, four, seven months in the future. I've had to accept the fact that I'm a human that makes large mistakes from time to time, and that this is a part of learning and living.

And it fucking sucks. Coming to terms with the fact that I'm imperfect is horrible. And not an endearing imperfect, not the fact that I make light of my flaws, really, truly, horribly imperfect.