I used to carry around this bag of hate. It was filled with hate for the person who took my Mom from me. I would pretend it was my duty, to hate this man, because of what he took from me. I would pretend it wasn't a selfish notion, to feel this hate. But it was. Hating him somehow convinced me I felt better. Hate somehow twisted the logic in my mind and told me that a few moments of cathartic hate would mean more to me than letting go. I was selfish, because the other person didn't feel the emotion that I was projecting at them, and I knew this.
Somewhere after turning 30 I picked up a book about Buddhism. I was fascinated. I remember reading that some people always view the glass as half full, and we call those people optimists. Some people see the glass as half empty, and those people are pessimists. The dharma explained that your perception of the glass would change if it were flung off the table and shattered on the floor. That notion really stuck with me. I also read about how your negative emotions of the past can only haunt you, therefore are useless in any productive form. The books told me to envision all the things that were done to me by this person, all of the emotions I felt, everything. It told me to take these things and put them into a suitcase. And to envision yourself carrying around that heaviness, how burdensome. Then it told me to put it down and walk away, and never look back. To forgive.
For the first time in my life I was able to free myself from some of the grief of my childhood. I just forgave him for everything he put my family through. I told his family I forgave him. I told my family, to their bewilderment.
You see, people like to carry their bitter around. I was actually conditioned by friends and family to hold onto the bitter, to revel in it. To live in the fever of the fury.
But it's never been the healthy option. And it never helped me once. I've applied bitterness to things in my life and never did they turn a situation around for me. Everyone struggles with it, but it never helps. It only 'feels' good.
But the longer you hold onto it the more it darkens your soul. You could be the most beautiful ray of light in the universe, and the bitterness with turn your light as black as the darkest midnight. I know this, because I used to want to be a ray of light.
I used to think I was strong enough to heal from life's scars. I was a happy hippie. I had found a tribe to emulate. And the emotion was acceptance and freedom. I didn't care about the consequences of my actions. I was wild and free, a beautiful disaster.
Love didn't heal the bitter, because in the end, love is what you make it.
Love isn't something you can hold up and expect to be a certain thing, don't put in any work or ever bleed for it, and then be bitter when it turns out that it isn't that thing you wanted. You can use the love to hide the bitter, but if the love fades the shades of fury and numbness come right back.
Time doesn't heal wounds, it only gradually makes them hurt less. If time healed anything, we would live and love forever. Time is just a fleeting thing; you choose what you get out of it.
And as much as you scream out at the mountaintops, sometimes your words aren't heard from your heart. They are twisted, heard from a critical ear as sharp as a jagged piece of glass. You can be as loving to a person as anyone has ever been, and they won't feel it the way you do. It is only to them what it is to them, a relative thing, and you can't change that, only accept it and chose whether to continue to love them anyway.
You can be bitter, angry, numb, trembling, or you can own your own emotions and move on.
I loved you, but that doesn't make what you did or do or say acceptable.
And that's ok. If you'd like to carry around the darkness in your heart, then I wish you strength.
Lies are unnecessary and hate is heavy. But that is your choice, not mine.
I love you, but I've moved on. I hope you find you want to let go of your hate and move on too.
Peace.