I messed up. I had a friend. I said some things. I've lost the friend due to my words... I messed up.
Words are funny things, aren't they? They are different when spoken than when written, and they are different both of those ways, expressed, than they are when just thought. Words can soothe and words can cut.
I messed up. I used my words badly; I called my friend names. Part of the irony is I'm not a name-caller by nature. I've never been known for great tact, and can be quite blunt. But I don't -- didn't -- call names. The last time I remember is in 8th grade, calling my classmate Miranda something nasty. I'm not a name-caller by nature.
But I called my friend names, and I crossed the line, rang the proverbial bell. And though I've apologized every way I know how, I can't unring the bell, and I won't be forgiven.
I don't blame my friend. I messed up. And lost a friend in the process.