forgiveness looks like a bandaid ripped off.

I am learning that sometimes forgiveness is a stiff drink with ice crunching between your teeth. It’s an exhale of glass shards, pain and relief intertwined.

I am learning that forgiveness is not warranted or bartered, it is a deliberate and calculated choice. Much like the choice that was made in spite of the promises, or the love, or the trust you had for the person who shattered you into a million pieces on the altar to bleed.

Forgiveness is a sacrificed lamb ready for slaughter. A reckoning, a pleading, a begging for the weight hanging from your chest to fall to the ground.
Forgiveness is the understanding that you’ve been holding the scissors to release that weight all along.

It is the floodgates opening, the rushing water sucking you under and somehow leading you to safety. Forgiveness is the tired, lifeless, washed up body finding its way to dry land.

I am learning that forgiveness is often the acceptance of an apology that you never received. It is the ending of “what ifs,” the no longer needing to justify, the swallowing of the facts and throwing the rest into the ocean where it belongs.
Deep, dark, and misunderstood.

I am learning that forgiveness means understanding that the only thing you can often trust is that you can’t trust everyone. It is the belief that the only thing you can believe is that he was a liar.
Forgiveness is often the ripping off of the bandaid we knew would never last. Looking at the wound and realizing that sometimes our own bleeding and suffering contains beauty all in its own.
A lesson. A purpose. A reason.

Forgiveness looks a lot like an exhale.

Chest rid of the garbage. Lungs ready to breathe in what’s next.

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