Sorrow. Repentance. How many times have I wronged somebody dear to me? Too many times. How often have I known and felt I was wrong without saying so? Way too often. I repent. Each time. Sometimes I muster the courage to say so. Sometimes I just stay silent. Sometimes it takes music to let me find out how wrong I was. Sometimes, music softens my everyday armour up and allows some honest introspection.
