Diary, Journal
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When Forgiveness Doesn’t Make Sense: A Letter For A Friend

I thought I knew how it feels like to make mistakes, cos I’m always fckng things up too… and yet I am so undeservedly blessed to be surrounded by wonderful people who forgive my faults and flaws as I forgive theirs… but forgiveness came a little late this time around.

I could give a mountain of reasons why, but when I think about all the mistakes I’ve made in that regard and the years I’ve spent being angry at you for every thing that I felt you ever failed at, I realised that it was really me who needed to come to terms with the issues of my past and accept the reality of what happened and find a way to live in a state of resolution with it, before I could continue to walk on compassionate ground.

I’ve learned that when it comes to matters of the heart, there is really no cure… only growth.

For years I quietly carried the burdens of “others” as though they were my own, and I put my hands into my back pockets and rocked back on my heels and sighed, “I loved you, but I’m so glad you never did,” and I walked away… I just wanted to forget everything about anyone who ever walked out on me, like how my dad did, and like how you did, and I didn’t want to care how many lessons I’ve learned from either of you because I just wanted both of you gone… I was stuck between wanting to tell you how sad I was (or disappointed or ashamed or scared or pissed or whatever the fck I was feeling at the time) and never wanting to have anything to do with you ever again – my heart was never broken, but scrubbing you off my memory over and over and over and over again, became a great source of catharsis… I’m sorry.

I thought to myself that surely in this fckd up world, it’s either I let others step on me or I do the stepping… right?

1460.97 days later… I backpacked to Hong Kong and spent the first couple of days “re-exploring” the more familiar parts of the city and each step I took was a different eternity from a different context, and it reminded me of the way your fingers explored my hair, and it’s weird and it’s weird and it’s weird and it’s weird cos that’s when I truly understood what feels like to make mistakes… and not have anyone forgive me.

And I hallucinated at the wet junctions of Wan Chai, licking at my wounds, wishing my selfishness would go away… it’s in that moment that I started to miss everyone who’s ever loved me. My tears fell unnoticed and strangers looked at me with concern, and my smile melted with confusion… but I’m finally at peace and making sense of all these things. My reflections have brought me “closer” to the man I never really took the time to understand because we were both so egotistical and so volatile and selfish and so weighted down with shame and sadness and confusion, so much so that “I love you” became nothing more than a response and holding hands was instinct and hurting each other was the only way that made us think that we were trying to make things work.

I’m glad that we “happened” and I’m glad it ended… the hurt was indeed necessary.

I’ve learned that when it comes to matters of the heart, there is really no cure… only growth. I have forgiven myself, and I have forgiven you.

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This entry was posted in: Diary, Journal

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HELLO, ANA JONESSY is a travel, festival and lifestyle blog by Ana Jonessy, a wanderlusting Sabahan in love with all that Southeast Asia and the world have to offer. I want to be engulfed by the beauty of the wilderness and magic and kindness.

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