Band-Aids Don’t Fix Bullet Holes

I’ve heard it too many times: “I’m sorry.” The words come out as if they’re magic, as if saying them erases the damage, undoes the hurt, and stitches me back together. But it doesn’t work like that. It never has. You can’t place a Band-Aid on a wound that cuts so deep it feels like it’s carved into my soul.

Some apologies aren’t meant for healing. They’re performances, neatly packaged in the hope that the problem will disappear. You didn’t say it because you meant it; you said it because you thought it was what I wanted to hear. As if your words were enough to patch over everything broken between us. But words don’t close bullet holes — they barely stop the bleeding.

When you live like that, you live with ghosts. I can see them hovering over your shoulder, the shadows of you past mistakes. They follow you because you’ve never really dealt with them. You say sorry just for show, not for the weight it carries, not for the change it demands. And every insincere apology leaves another crack in the foundation of everything we built.

I tried to forgive, I really did. I wanted to believe in the power of your words, in the promises that spilled from your lips. But over time, I realized they were just placeholders — temporary fixes for a deeper problem you never intended to solve. You’d rather slap on a Band-Aid than face the infection spreading underneath.

But me? I’m done pretending. I’m done patching things up and hoping they’ll hold. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that wounds don’t heal unless you give them the care they need. And sometimes, the only way to heal is to let go of the one who keeps cutting you open.

So keep your apologies. Keep your ghosts. I’m choosing myself this time. Because Band-Aids might not fix the bullet holes, but walking away from the source of the pain? That just might save me.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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