when something precious is broken, you break along with it.
the fact is there; naked and vivid.
time stops then and there opens up a dark, swallowing wound in your soul. you feel so small and irrevocably stupid. and dead, even. but then, you think to yourself that you're so filthy that death is too pure to touch you. "you shall not be saved but be punished!"
the weak voice of your reason calls you to pull yourself together. tells you that in some other ways you are also right. but then you know no matter how right you are what you did was wrong. fullstop.
and a 'did' is the most powerful thing a man should handle with utmost care.
in other words, occam's razor cuts you deep. when there is one giant, painful 'said-and-done' mistake, no other ways of righteousness can be shiny enough to enlighten the darkness that settles upon you.
you are banished.
the worst thing is, it's all your fault.
deal with it.