Have you ever done something that was so horrible that you truly have no excuses? A simple “bless your heart” won’t cut it, and the all-encompassing Christian Hail Mary phrase that covers a multitude of sins, “The Lord knows my heart,” just won’t do. Not for this time. You can wax poetic. You dropped the ball at the five-yard line, you didn’t live up to your expectations, and you fell flat. Best of all, you’re only human. But when you look at the aftermath of your decisions, it looks like a battlefield of the emotionally and sometimes physically wounded. There are no excuses. We knew better. We saw the trouble coming, and we just couldn’t step away. We got caught up in our selfishness, caught up in fleeting excitement, and caught up in minutes of recklessness that have left a lifetime of “I wish I hadn’ts.” When you peel off the weak excuses, the tissue-paper pride, the guilt, anger, and shame, “I messed up,” without just flat-out cussing, sums it up. Now what will you do?