and there's many shades of black

I confronted my crook late last night.

He admitted to what he did, but not without a fight. An intellectual fight, that is. I guess I was half expecting a reason why. But I was also in no mood for a debate. All the reasons in the world can't excuse the act of stealing - especially from a friend. So yes, there was some amount of hurt that no rationalizing could excuse. I tried my best to make him understand that. I only half believed he actually meant the apology, which left a little bit of a sour taste in my mouth.

But I just got a call this afternoon and this time, the voice on the other end was truly sorry. And more importantly, there was some shame.

Shame is what really makes someone think twice the next time around. I really believe that. But I also felt the mutual respect that had been lacking the night before. "Thanks for listening and thanks for being so tactful about it," he said. "Just know that it never came from a bad place."

Cynical as I can be, it takes a lot for me to believe otherwise.