Chapter 15 · 3 min 02 sec
Maybe I Was Wrong
The courage of revision — the grace of returning to say what you should have said.
Lyrics· 245 words
I spent years collecting answers Like they were trophies on a shelf Always trying to be the smartest guy In every room I found myself I had reasons for my reasons And a speech for every fight But somewhere along the highway I stopped needing to be right
Funny what you learn When you stop trying to win Maybe I was wrong, maybe that's okay Maybe growing up means changing What you thought you'd never change Maybe all the best lessons don't arrive too Strong Maybe I got wiser the day I said
Maybe I was wrong I've apologized to strangers I've apologized to friends I've apologized to people I never thought I'd understand And every time I swallow pride The world got a little wide
Turns out humility opens doors Ego keeps locked inside Maybe I was wrong, maybe that's okay Maybe growing up means changing What you thought you'd never change Maybe all the best lessons don't arrive too Strong Maybe I got wiser the day I said
Maybe I was wrong Maybe I was wrong The mountains don't argue The rivers don't defend They just keep moving forward Again and again
Maybe I was wrong, maybe that's alright Maybe some of the brightest roads appear When you stop the fight Maybe life gets better when you don't need To be strong Maybe I became myself the day I said Maybe I was wrong
And maybe that's where wisdom starts Thanks for watching
*A story about the courage to return*
It had been forty-three days since Camila said the thing she shouldn't have said.
She knew it was forty-three because she'd thought about it every one of them.
She had said it in anger, in public, in front of people she didn't know very well. She had said it about Joana, her oldest friend — something true that was also unkind, the most dangerous kind of thing to say. She had said it and seen Joana's face and known immediately that she had crossed something that couldn't be uncrossed.
Joana had not spoken to her since.
Camila had told herself it was Joana's fault for being too sensitive. Then she had told herself it was complicated. Then she had stopped telling herself anything and just avoided the whole subject, which worked fine until she was trying to fall asleep and it would come back again, sharp-edged and heavy.
Her older brother asked what was wrong. She explained.
"So go and apologise," he said.
"It's been forty-three days."
He shrugged. "I've apologised for things from three years ago. It's not about the time."
"What if she doesn't want to hear it?"
"Then at least you'll have said it." He paused. "But Camila — you know Joana. Do you actually think she's hoping you won't come?"
Camila thought about Joana. About who she actually was, not who the part of Camila that wanted to feel blameless had decided she was.
The next afternoon she knocked on Joana's door.
When Joana opened it, she didn't look surprised. She looked cautious.
"I was wrong," Camila said. "What I said was unkind and I said it in public and you didn't deserve that. I've been trying to think of a reason it wasn't my fault for forty-three days and there isn't one."
Joana looked at her for a long moment.
"Forty-three days," she said.
"Yeah."
"I counted too," Joana said. And she stood back to let her in.
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*Going back to say you were wrong is hard. But it is always the shorter road.*
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