Forgiving Myself

Guilt.

Forgiveness.

One of these I have. The other I need.

 

I spoke carelessly. I didn’t realize at the time that I should have eluded the question, that the truth should have been kept a secret. My few words, spoken in a matter of seconds, caused us hours – days – of pain. Your immediate response of silence and ostracism tore a hole in my heart. When you finally came to talk to me, I snapped back in anger, this time purposely choosing words meant to hurt. It worked.

The loneliness I felt, when it seemed you’d walked away, was nearly too much to bear. I’d never realized how lonely one could feel even when in a house full of the friendliest of people. I only wanted one person. You. And you denied me that.

But I deserved it. I was selfish early on. You answered my questions with utmost honesty and I twisted your words to fit my needs. I didn’t truly listen to what you had to say.

For a long time I wasn’t sure you’d forgiven my blunder. I was certain you were re-thinking everything about our friendship. We talked about the incident shortly after, but I still was unsure if we could get back to how we were before. But I know now that you have forgiven me. Your selflessness when I was in need has proven that.

The tears I continue to shed are in response to my own stupidity. I am afraid I’ll make a similar mistake down the road because I’ve made worse mistakes in the past. This slip was made innocently, while a poor choice made over a decade ago was intentional. Strange that I feel more guilt over this one.

I am so sorry. I know it’s in the past, that you’ve moved beyond it.

But I have not. I still struggle to forgive myself. I feel I don’t deserve forgiveness.

 

But I’m working on it.

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