“Sorry” you would say. And I would reply back, “It’s okay, we’re good.”
Oh, but we were not.
I wish I had remembered what mama taught me,
“Never say it is just okay. If they did something worth saying sorry over, then it was certainly not ok. Say ‘I accept your apology’, nothing more.”
I never said that you kept doing things that were worth saying sorry over. Again and again, you made the same mistake, and I always said, “It’s okay.”
No, it’s not. It’s not okay, and I’m not okay.
You don’t make me feel okay, and that should matter more than anything else.
Perfectly Imperfect Me 