Achingly proud
It's just this weekend that I realized in a way, pride can be the most hurtful of the seven deadly sins. Not anger, not sloth, not greed or lust. Pride.
Like, you know, when you're too proud to beg.
When you're too proud to admit you got rejected and you're only second best.
When you're too proud to admit you were an ass and say sorry.
When you're too proud to admit desire.
When you're too proud to fail. Or fall.
When you're too proud to just listen, for once.
When you're too proud to move on and forgive.
When you're too proud to be yourself.
Pride. It hurts. Sooner or later we'll all be acquainted with another sickening feeling: regret.
Time to grab a slice of humble pie, everyone.
Like, you know, when you're too proud to beg.
When you're too proud to admit you got rejected and you're only second best.
When you're too proud to admit you were an ass and say sorry.
When you're too proud to admit desire.
When you're too proud to fail. Or fall.
When you're too proud to just listen, for once.
When you're too proud to move on and forgive.
When you're too proud to be yourself.
Pride. It hurts. Sooner or later we'll all be acquainted with another sickening feeling: regret.
Time to grab a slice of humble pie, everyone.