The Wounds of a Friend

I took all the things you said, and I brought them into a room called consideration. We sat in that room for hours. The things you said made me cry and made me angry. We argued. We fought. We spent time in silence seething at one another.... but when the seething ended, and the silence lingered, I began to see that the things you said were right. I cried again and embraced the things you said.

The things you said hurt me, but faithful are the wounds of a friend.