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I Forgive You
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I Forgive You, Asshole

Hey asshole,

It’s been awhile. Years, in fact. Which feels amazing, to say the least.

The more distance between us, the better I feel. So let’s keep this train moving.

But…

Why do I still care? Why am I still counting the years? Because…you did a real number on me.

And it wasn’t all your fault.

Those six years should have been so sacred. I should have been more careful with who I talked to during those years. With who I listened to. Because I was just a fragile baby bird. I was a kid, growing into a woman, and I let you clip my wings. Why why why did I let you clip my wings?

In case you are confused, here is what you did:

You took my joy and made me feel bad for feeling it, because you couldn’t partake in the same joy.

You took my voice and squashed it down to barely a whisper.

You stole my confidence and told it that it wasn’t important or needed, then gave it back to be in pieces.

You lied to me for fun, to get a reaction out of me.

You turned me against my biggest supporters, because you didn’t like that other people could make me happy.

You trapped me in a cage of self-doubt, fear, and guilt.

You clipped my freaking wings, so I couldn’t fly away from you.

But the worst, WORST thing was…I let you.

Ugh, that sucks to say. But it’s true. I am also at fault. I let you be an asshole. I rolled out your red carpet. I tended to the asshole garden that was your hold on me. And I held space for your assholeness for six years. Six years I will never get back.

I knew your family. I knew you didn’t get the attention you needed as a kid. I knew you didn’t get the support or encouragement you needed to meet your potential. I knew you had been beaten. I knew your childhood was shit. I knew everyone looked to the baby of the family to fix all of their issues. And I sympathized.

I told you to let me be your punching bag, without being honest with myself. I wasn’t built to be a punching bag. I’m soft. And warm. I’m good for cuddles and hugs. For calm reassurances. For a good cry. I’m built for honesty. But I lied to myself, just like you did. 

I thought I was tough as a rock. But I was softer than a cloud. And you took advantage of that.

I wish I could go back and tell you to shut your fucking mouth. I wish I could go back and slam the door in your face every time I found out you lied to me. And walk away when you spoke badly of my family and friends.

Remember the way my eyes would glaze over when you droned on and on about a topic I had no real interest in? That was because I was bored and didn’t want to listen. 

But I knew you needed an audience. And I was committed to you, so I became that audience. I listened, always. I let you talk without interruption. Because I loved you. 

Should have loved myself more. I should have realized that I loved the idea of us and what we could be, and probably didn’t actually love you. Hmm, yeah, I’m not sure how I could love someone who did that to me. I loved what I thought we could be.

And I was afraid to be alone. To make a mistake. To say goodbye to what could have been the best thing in my life.

Instead, I hung on to you until I knew that letting you go was one of the best things in my life. Damn, that felt really good. 

And now I’m letting go of you again, forever. I’m letting go of the anger. And any other thoughts of you.

I forgive you, asshole. I forgive you for doing the best you could. Because you were just a kid too.

And my younger self? I forgive her too. I’ve learned that I need to be my biggest advocate. I know what I want. So I will let myself have it. And I won’t let assholes take up any more of my time. I can’t. I just love myself too much to do that again.

I dare someone else to treat me the way you did. Because I would have such a great time telling them to shove it. And walking away. Oh, how I’ve imagined doing that to you.

But I don’t imagine that anymore. In fact, I have nothing more to say to you. I’ve learned a great deal about myself, people like you, and recognizing other beautiful birds getting their wings clipped by assholes. I hope to tell them my story. And help them take their power back. 

And by forgiving you, I can move on. I can feel it. I am tougher than a freaking rock. I am invincible. I did that.

So, goodbye asshole. You are nothing to me anymore. No longer love or hate. Just nothing.

See ya never.

Like this? View related poem: Love lost

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by Becca Krul

Hi! I'm a chiropractor in Chicago but my real dream is to be a published author. I grew up reading and loved to be wrapped in other worlds formed by letters on a page and my imagination. I love to write about my experience or the experiences of others in a way that readers can learn from. I believe we all have stories worth sharing and I'm going to do my best to tell mine. I prefer to write fiction stories, but I love to write the occasional truthful article from my own words. I love to look for inspiration in my every day life, which is predominately found in the chilly fall air, the whisper of trees, and the steadfast breath of Lake Michigan.