forgiveness

By the time I had
forgiven myself,
I realized I didn’t need
to forgive you.

I mean, sure….
You’re forgiven.
But I couldn’t ever really be
angry with you to begin with.
That was always the problem.

I was broken, shattered, lifeless…
But I couldn’t blame you.

No matter how ridiculous
that sounds…
It doesn’t change the truth.

I was never mad at you.

Disappointed. Yes.
Disillusioned. Yes.
Utterly baffled. For sure..

But it was me I was upset with…
Furious… So angry
I could hardly stand
to look at myself,
to be myself.

How dare I
allow myself
to believe so little
of myself?

Yeah, you just may happen
to be an asshole.
You might be
absolutely horrid…

That’s not your fault.

I know some folks may
struggle with these words…
Maybe it’s not their truth.

But for me:
My narc was a cool dude
with a mountain of issues
that I chose to accept
for all sorts of reasons.

I forgave him
because I know
he didn’t mean to hurt me
(And oh, did he ever)

He was who he was.
I knew who he was
I clung to him still…

Yeah… I know, they’re tricky
Masterminds, manipulators….
But they weren’t born that way.
I can’t fault him for how he turned out.

Am I pissed that he chose me?
Oh yeah. I’m mad as hell…
But not at him. At me…
for being chosen.

So, I’ve had to forgive myself
again and again.

I’ve looked at myself
oh so very close…
because I need to know
what he saw in me…

So I can hide it,
until I can change it…

When I say never again….
When I say I refuse to be
hurt that way again….
I’ve never been so
determined to
honor a promise.

Sylphina Angel

Sept. 18, 2018