I tell myself you bleed like I do. I say that a lot. Over and over like a totem; a psalm to ground me. Same color blood. Same color blood. Same color blood. You hurt. You defend. You love. You need. You live in the same world. Same world. Same color blood. Same. Same. Same.
That’s the place I need to live.
Where you exist in similar spaces, not different.
Still, it’s heavy to forgive you. Knotty, laborious, merciless.
Forgiveness has always been a flower I don’t accept.
And that torments me fathoms more than you.
I bleed.
But you do too.
For today’s PROMPTuesday, please share your story of forgiveness, of trying to forgive, or of not forgiving.
Meanwhile…If you would, post your submission in the comments OR post in your blog and leave a link to your blog in the comments.
First time to PROMPTuesday? Read a bit about it here. Want to see what’s been written in the past? Catch up on the PROMPTuesdays archive here.
http://www.3kidsandabreakdown.com/2011/02/23/forgive-and-forget/
“You need to forgive him” she told me. It was right after an al anon meeting. My ex was in rehab, my marriage was over and there were things he had done that anyone would’ve found unforgivable, especially me and now this woman, this person who didn’t know me from Adam was asking me to forgive him?
“Forget it”, I spewed, tears filling my eyes, while I grabbed my keys out of bag and swore to myself this would be the one and only time I would ever come to one of these stupid “get togethers”, as I now saw them.
I wanted to walk away but she was blocking my path. Not on purpose but I was so angry, so full of rage that I was afraid if I tried to get by her, I would shove her so hard, what? I’d kill her? Maybe, I didn’t know. I just knew I was barely in control of myself and I had to get back home to my daughter.
“It’s the only way you will heal yourself”, she said, her eyes pleading with me to see her point of view.
“If I forgive he wins, his mother wins and I will never let that happen,” I replied, as I continued to look for another pathway to my car.
“If you don’t forgive him, the only thing that will happen is you will lose, your sanity, your dignity, your health, everything that is important in life, you will lose”.
Somewhere deep down inside me I knew she was right, just not right then, right at that moment for it was my rage, my unwillingness to forgive that propelled me out of bed every morning. Those were my reasons for living and without them, I knew that I would die and, at least in that moment, I wasn’t ready to do that yet either.
Wow, I was just thinking about a friend in my past that I never forgave. She was my very first friend at UCSB. I met her orientation and we were close friends for four years. Our senior year her true colors came out when I overheard her talking badly about my boyfriend. It wasnt that she didn’t like him b/c of his personality. It was that he was black and she was a huge racist. I had heard her make a few distasteful comments before but never directed at my boyfriend. Then when it got personal I realized just what a bigot she was and I told her to her face that I could not remain friends with her. Even though she was my housemate at the time, I found ways to avoid her and I never spoke to her again. Ever. I found her on FB and was thinking about friending her but a few months ago but remembered the reason that we “broke up” and determined there was no need to bring that back into my life.
Typically however, I forgive.
Here you go, 150 words based on your prompt:
They say that every man must accept that there comes a time when he must bend the knee and accept that he isn’t always the master of his fate. I want to say that I was absent the day that they taught that particular lesson in school or that the Internet was broken and consequently I never got the email that contained the memo.
It would make life so much easier but I don’t have that to use an excuse. Instead I can plead arrogance with an extra dose of stupidity and a sprinkling of dumb. I had her. I found the one that completes me. She gave herself to me, freely, willingly and without question.
And then I lost her.
She wasn’t kidnapped by bandits or carted off by warrior princes from beyond the sea. She left on her own and I can’t forgive myself for my role.
Another subject that I’d posted on at my place once, but I’d be glad to submit:
http://davestuff.wordpress.com/2010/05/14/forcing-forgiveness/
I really like this idea. I haven’t written (publicly) of my own experiences with this. Thank you for the encouragement.
That is superb. Really exceptional writing. It touches at the heart of things.