Four years.
I waited:
Four years.
For an apology.
Convinced:
If I just got it:
I could move on.
Then:
It came.
And I realized:
I didn't need it anymore.
What I Thought the Apology Would Give Me
Closure.
Validation.
Proof:
That I wasn't:
Crazy.
Dramatic.
Overreacting.
That:
What happened:
Was real.
And wrong.
I thought:
The apology:
Would heal me.
The Four Years Before It Came
Year One: Waiting
Every day:
I checked my phone.
Hoping:
For the text:
"I'm sorry."
It never came.
Year Two: Anger
I stopped waiting.
Started being angry.
"How dare they not apologize?"
The anger:
Consumed me.
Year Three: Acceptance
Therapy.
Lots of it.
Therapist: "What if they never apologize?"
Me: "Then I'll never get closure."
Her: "Or you give it to yourself."
I tried.
But part of me:
Still wanted:
To hear it.
Year Four: Moving On
I stopped:
- Thinking about them daily
- Checking social media
- Hoping for contact
- Needing validation
I built:
A life:
Without the apology.
I thought:
I was over it.
The Text
Four years later.
My phone buzzed.
Their name.
I froze.
Opened it:
"Hey. I know it's been a long time. I've been in therapy and doing a lot of work on myself. I want to apologize for how I treated you. I was wrong. I hurt you. You didn't deserve that. I'm truly sorry."
The apology:
I'd waited years for.
What I Expected to Feel
Relief.
Validation.
Closure.
Healing.
What I Actually Felt
Nothing.
Then:
Sad.
Not for me.
For the version of me:
Who waited.
Who needed this.
Who thought:
This would fix everything.
What I Realized
Four years ago:
This apology:
Would've meant:
Everything.
Now:
It was just:
Words on a screen.
From someone:
I didn't know anymore.
Because:
I'd already:
- Validated myself
- Given myself closure
- Healed
- Moved on
The apology:
Came too late.
Not because:
I wouldn't accept it.
But because:
I didn't need it:
Anymore.
The Response I Sent
I stared at the text:
For an hour.
Drafting responses:
"Thank you. This means a lot."
Delete.
"It's too late."
Delete.
"I appreciate this."
Delete.
Finally:
"I appreciate you reaching out. I've worked through this in therapy and I'm in a good place now. I wish you well."
Short.
Polite.
Boundaried.
I didn't:
- Rehash the past
- Explain my healing
- Accept them back
- Continue the conversation
Just:
Acknowledged.
And moved on.
What I Didn't Say
That I wished:
It had come sooner.
When I was:
- Crying every night
- Questioning my reality
- Blaming myself
- Desperate for validation
When it would've:
Actually helped.
What the Apology Taught Me
1. Apologies Are for the Apologizer
They said:
"I've been in therapy."
This apology:
Was part of:
Their healing.
Not mine.
2. Closure Comes From Within
I thought:
I needed their apology:
To move on.
I didn't.
I'd already:
Moved on.
Without it.
3. Timing Matters
An apology:
Four years late:
Doesn't carry:
The same weight.
Because:
By then:
You've healed:
Around the wound.
4. You Owe Them Nothing
They apologized.
I didn't owe them:
- Forgiveness
- Reconciliation
- A long response
- My time
- My energy
Just:
Acknowledgment.
If I wanted.
The Conversation With My Therapist
Her: "How did you feel when you got the apology?"
Me: "Nothing. Then sad. Is that weird?"
Her: "Not at all. Four years ago, you needed external validation. Now you've given it to yourself."
Me: "So the apology doesn't matter?"
Her: "It matters. But not in the way it would've years ago. You're not the same person who was desperate for it."
Me: "I wasted four years waiting."
Her: "You didn't waste them. You learned you don't need anyone else to validate your experience. That's powerful."
She was right.
What I'd Tell Past Me
The version of me:
Who waited:
Obsessively:
For the apology:
I'd say:
"Stop waiting. They might never apologize. And even if they do—it won't feel the way you think it will."
"Give yourself the closure you're desperate for them to give you."
"Validate yourself. You know what happened. You don't need them to confirm it."
"The healing you're waiting for doesn't come from their mouth. It comes from your work."
"Stop giving them power over your peace."
Six Months After the Apology
They texted again:
"I'd really like to talk more. Can we meet for coffee?"
Old me:
Would've said yes immediately.
New me:
"I don't think that's a good idea. Take care."
No explanation.
No justification.
No guilt.
Just:
A boundary.
They responded:
"I thought you'd be happy I apologized. I've changed."
There it was.
The apology:
Wasn't actually:
About making amends.
It was about:
Getting back in.
I didn't respond.
The Real Closure
Came from:
Not:
Their apology.
But:
Realizing:
I didn't need it.
I'd already:
- Processed what happened
- Understood it wasn't my fault
- Learned the lessons
- Healed the wounds
- Built a better life
Their apology:
Was just:
Confirmation:
Of what I already knew.
Not:
The key:
To my healing.
If You're Waiting for an Apology
Ask yourself:
What would the apology:
Actually give you?
Validation?
You can give that to yourself.
Proof you were right?
You already know you were.
Permission to move on?
You don't need their permission.
Closure?
That comes from within.
The apology:
Might never come.
And even if it does:
It might not feel:
The way you think.
Stop waiting.
Start healing.
About 4Angles: The apology you've been waiting for might come—years too late. By then, you'll realize you didn't need it. Closure comes from within, not from them.
Last updated: November 2, 2025