Forgiveness

I’m done saying I’m sorry to you.

That’s what I’m here to tell myself. I’ve gone to the only thing that’s left of you on this earth, to convince myself that I’m done.

I sit down on the dry grass and the crisp leaves that both crunch under my weight. I’m sitting on the dirt that’s covering your casket and you. I went here a day, about two years ago, to see that the dirt had sunk where they put you in the ground. The digger told me it was because the lid of your casket had broken, taken in the dirt that had been lying as a heavy pressure on top of it.

Now, it’s covering what’s left of you on this forsaken earth – the place you forsook.

And now, I’m done saying I’m sorry to you.

When you first left, I cried for a whole month. Next to your wife, I was the one who cried the most at your funeral. For a whole month after that, I believe I was the one who cried the most on this earth.

After that month, I was angry at you. You had abandoned me. You had told me you loved me; you had kissed me; and I had loved you back, and then you just deserted me. It felt as if you’d left me here to die.

I think there’s still a part of me that blamed you when I noticed your grave had sunk in. But that was also the day that I think the guilt sunk into me; the day that I realized what you had done for me:

You stayed.

You were strong that last two months of your life – the little life you had left – and I know you were that for me. I never said it to you; I never admitted it; I never told you, but you just knew that I needed you. I needed you to stick around until I had accepted it. I needed for you to be there the day I stopped denying that you were gonna die.

You didn’t let go, until you knew I was ready to.

That was where the guilt came from. I felt that your last pains were my fault. I felt that I was all that dirt on your shoulders that you had to get rid of before you were able to breathe your last breath. I never wanted you to suffer, and it was my fault you did.

I’ve lost count on how many times I’ve cried over that. I can’t account for how much pain I made myself go through, just to feel normal again, because I didn’t feel normal or even human when I knew that I had caused you so much pain.

That last month of your life, I saw so much pain in your eyes that I almost felt my heart split in two whenever I saw you, because I loved you so much. I loved you with so much of my heart that it couldn’t handle being one when it sensed that you were broken.

And I’m sure your heart split too whenever it saw me. I knew you didn’t want to leave me, but you had no choice – and I caused you so much pain by making you believe that you had.

I’ve spent two years saying sorry to you. Every day, I’ve tried to express how terrible I feel about having hurt you. Every year on the day of your death, I cried at the memory of the pain you went through as a way to show myself that I was sorry – but I never managed to convince myself.

And now, I’m done saying I’m sorry. It’s not because I’ve forgiven myself. It’s not because I have gotten over losing you. It’s not because I have intended to move on and pretend I’m over you.

It’s because I have forgiven you.

I’m forgiving you for leaving me. I’m forgiving you for hurting yourself. I’m forgiving you for being the most perfect thing in this world and for loving me back with as much passion as I loved you with.

One thing I’m also forgiving you for, is taking all the love out of me. Since you left, I have tried loving again, but each time, I can’t. I hope it’s because I simply haven’t found the perfect person yet, but I can’t help but think of it as Karma.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself, but I forgive you.

I will always love you.