The Dark Spot On A Beautiful Soul

I try my damndest to be a good person.
Most days, I think I do alright. Not great, rarely good, but alright is pretty safe.
Today, I woke up. It's too late, and I know that, but I'm awake now.
I knew what I did. I knew I was screwing up, but I'd been craving the attention. I didn't cheat, hell, we're not even together, but I knew what it'd look like and I knew it'd hurt him if he was paying attention.
I screwed up.
He might have a jealous streak a mile wide, but I'm clearly not doing much to help that, now am I?
I used his jealousy as an excuse. Did he go a little overboard? Yeah, probably. Was I wrong? Without a doubt.
So, looks like I woke up just in time to start a new decade, and, eventually, maybe a new relationship. He sure as hell ain't takin me back, and I can't blame him.
I stopped drinking so I wouldn't have an excuse for my actions. I remember being fed excuses for every action, feeling, word... I remember never having to take responsibility. I don't live in that world anymore, and I refuse to let it drag me back. I worked too hard to get out of that place. I am not living with excuses.
I was wrong, and I am admitting I'm wrong.
There's no more excuses, there's no more lies. The only person who believed my lies was me.
Now I realize what they were.
Maybe he wasn't the one, maybe he was just someone to teach me what I needed to know.
I guess it doesn't stop hurting either way.
I'll do better next time.