... but what if my apology doesn't fix it? What if the hurt continues to fester, like a sliver under the skin... and I can not heal it? What if I have no words left... nothing I can do... and to sit in silence is not satisfactory to the one I have wounded.? When does the ball shift to their court?
How do I still love when I am bombarded? Can the flimsy boundaries I have around me keep out the harsh arrows? Should they?
Does there come I time when I drag my own wounded body off the field and seek refuge to heal?

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