The weight of a lesson (True story)

I think I inherited a lot from my father- his resilience, his temper, his overthinking. But the one thing that clings to me the most is GUILT. The kind that eats me up from the inside, even over the smallest things. Today, though… today, I truly messed up. I ordered something from Zepto, and just as I was waiting, the delivery guy called. His voice was steady. "Hello, I have reached your location but I had an accident. I can't climb the stairs… could you please come down and pick up the order?" I sighed. I’ve heard so many excuses before. The world has become so fake, so full of people looking for short cuts, that I’ve stopped trusting anyone but myself. "Can you at least come to the first floor?" I asked, not believing a word he said. "I will try… I’ll climb slowly. Please come down," he replied. And then, I saw him. He struggled, step by painful step, dragging himself up, his body clearly aching from whatever happened to him. And in that moment, shame hit me like a wave. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t looking for an easy way out. He was just trying to do his job, despite the pain. And I- without even thinking- had assumed the worst of him. I wanted to apologize. Tell him I was sorry, that I had been wrong, that the world might be full of liars, but he wasn’t one of them. But the moment passed, and he left. Now, I can’t stop thinking… just like I didn’t trust him, will he now stop trusting people too? Did I make his day worse when he was already struggling to get through it? Guilt is heavy. And today, I feel its full weight.