Words *DO* Hurt

The Morgan Wallen video posted is a painful reminder that words, certain words, do hurt. I’m confident that a career ending video like that, with the subsequent collateral damage field it created will haunt him for the rest of his days on Spaceship Earth.

I can only pray that he uses it as motivation to change his ways after some deep self-reflection.

Be careful with your words. Once they are said, they can be only forgiven – not forgotten

~ anonymous saying

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The summer of 2013 was one of my best to date, and yet … one of the worst incidents I’ve ever had in my life. Lemme explain one of my NOT-the-proudest-moments in my life.

It won’t be easy read, as well it won’t be easy for me to write it up. But I don’t ever want to forget, and Morgan’s words revived the memory.

What’s Your Frequency, Kenneth?!

After a particularly soul-crushing break up in the summer 2012, I started partying and drinking from then all the way to 2013. My consumption was to the point of black out drinking.

Blacking out does not mean that a person becomes unconscious, like falling asleep. Instead, people often continue to interact with others, engage in routine or potentially dangerous behaviors, and even continue to drink.

People who are blackout drunk are more likely to physically injure themselves. They have also been known to walk home, brush their teeth, eat meals, or go through other normal behaviors. They do not remember these behaviors because their brain does not move those experiences into memory. Once the person begins to sober up, the brain will begin to process memories normally again.

It’s like the brain quits recording on the video tape but the video tape continues to operate.

My birthday parties (yes, more than one) that year were EPIC. The first party of the weekend, I enjoyed birthday shots, and then more drinking, finally to the point of black out. Several of my friends, and a young woman I had been dating, all piled into a Denny’s Restaurant for the after-hours party.

I honestly do not remember the night, or even saying this, but the morning after was painfully evident I DID say those hurtful things.

I do remember stumbling out of my sister’s car, then while on all-fours of the parking garage I violently vomited. Jesus, this is what my life choices have culminated to? You are a borderline alcoholic.

That wouldn’t be last of my issues.

I SAID WHAT?!

The morning after I didn’t have a hangover which concerned me. Then I looked at my mobile phone – no texts or missed calls. My attempts of calling and texting party attendees were unanswered.

Something’s amiss. What have I done, my panicked mind, asks?

My best friend, my bro, Jason finally answered my repeated phone calls. I gulped, “J, what happened after about 10 pm because I can’t remember! No one else isn’t answering, help!”

He answers my question by telling a horror story where I’m the antagonist. Apparently, I was asked how I got the Captain Morgan costume that was custom, handmade by the young lady I was dating.

He recalls that I replied with, “she’s my on-call #$%^* that does anything I want including making costumes for me!”

And then I tried to celebrate triumphantly with a high-five. The hurtful statement had her burst into immediate tears, my friends were horrified, and my sister was ashamed of me for the first time in recorded history.

My heart sunk. I SAID WHAT?! Oh Lord, what have I done?

Since I lived with my sister, I apologized to her first. Her reply was the same as everyone else. “That’s all fine and well, but you apologize to Alicia.”

On Bended Knee

To this day I’m grateful for my bro, Jason, campaigning for me, saying and doing whatever it took to coax her into the car to drive to me but … he was successful.

Lemme just say she had more poise and grace than I would’ve in her position!

I managed to carry her bags in silence, up to our shared hotel room. I invited her to sit on the edge of the bed. Then on bended knee I look at her eyes that was filled with hurt. Hurt that I caused.

It was devastating.

I apologize profusely, genuinely and not from a power position as she looked down on me. She quietly listened to my apologetic words which were specific as I learned if you are sorry about something be sure to state why exactly.

She replied with the following that’ll stick with me, “Before I accept or deny your apology, as you said, I have a question for you.”

I gulped, “Yes, I said even though I apologized that doesn’t mean you are required to accept it. I’m at your mercy. Therefore I will answer any question. Shoot.”

“Were those drunk words, but sober thoughts?” she asked with tears welling up in her pretty eyes.

FUCK, just kill me now. That was a dagger into my heart.

With tears in my eyes now, “Not at all. That’s a type of malice reserved for the most hated enemy – you’re not even close.”

She summoned a meek smile, “Good. I accept your apology, Mr. Bayne. If you ever say or do anything like that again, I’ll end you myself.”

I had placed my hands and arms on her thighs, “Fair enough, I accept that. It won’t come to that, but I understand the repercussions if I do.” I rose up to my feet, extended my hand to her.

She accepted it, and rose up to her feet. We literally, kissed, hugged, and mended fences. I seared into my mind forever: words *DO* hurt. I was forgiven by a very gracious human being; given a 2nd chance.

Best believe, there will not be a third. I vowed to myself never to do that again. From that day forward I would measure my words carefully. The spoken word can not be taken back. Oh, and of course, curb my enthusiasm of drinking and partying.

That is all, carry on.

‘los