I call it forgiveness, but it’s not. Not really.
Intellectually, I can say ‘I forgive you’ and I can even think that it’s true and that I mean it. You are sorry, I see that, I’m a generous person, I want to move past it, I forgive you.
But the emotional truth is that I don’t forgive you. I don’t think I’m capable of it, or at least I don’t think so anymore.
There is more, of course, there is a story. There is always a story.
I make my choices, even if the choices aren’t so healthy for me, or for others. I make them, I own them.
I am not surprised by how it played out, and I am grateful for that lack of surprise: my instincts are sound and they serve me well.
There is some hurt, some anger. But mostly I am sad. …
This boy is going to break my heart.
I thought it was the other way around.
I think maybe I was wrong.
He is young and reckless. A gambolling curious and sensitive kitten. Also a clumsy puppy who wiggles and wags and runs headlong into the furniture. Despite his outward playfulness, inside he is wounded and fearful, but he can be coaxed out of hiding to roll over and present his soft underbelly over and again. Smart, articulate, and frighteningly perceptive, he bounced into my corner of the internet some three months ago with his devastating vulnerability …
I’m angry, I’m hurt, I’m sad, and none of this is a surprise. Which is some comfort. Because I knew. And knowing means my instincts are good, solid, reliable. Knowing cushions the fall, makes the landing softer.
“I don’t trust him,” I said, right there in black and white.
I was right.
But I still kept a little piece of hope alive, because dammit, there was something there that I haven’t felt in a …
It is impossibly seductive to feel seen and be wanted.
I don’t mean in a nice calm and measured way, over coffee, perhaps a pastry with a light sprinkle of icing sugar on top, civilised conversation, a polite nodding.
I mean in that scary-intense way that crashes over you in waves. That way that feels ridiculous and frightening and tempts you to drown in it.
It’s right on the border of ‘WTF?!’ Perhaps even a …