Today, I finally let you go. The fog has lifted. The rain swept through and cleaned the city’s smog from the windows. I always thought this would feel like a death. The death of you and the could-have-been of us. But, it didn’t. Hanging on was the deeper death of all my hopes and dreams tied up in the picture of you incapable of loving me.
Somewhere in the timeless timeline of our history, we made a promise. You would break my heart and I would learn how to forgive. I haven’t perfected it, I don’t practice it nearly enough. But, I mean it with you. I’ve shown few my broken heart buried inside like a treasure I was too afraid to spend. And today, the rain arrived and the bank is broken open. Like a red balloon inflated with the pain, the joy, the unrequited frustration of this distant friendship, the expectation, and the maybe. I tied a knot and released you into the air until, like a dot, you disappeared.
Freedom. I feel free for the first time in so long, I’m not so sure how to settle into this skin unbound by the unconscious constant of you. So I looked for distraction from myself for something familiar and habitual like television and gelato. But even still, reminders of other “incompletes” arise. Like the loss of my best friend while watching two real housewives in New York City come to terms with the loss of theirs.
We don’t have the chance to practice forgiveness enough. This gift gives in unexpected ways. Doors and windows of opportunity will open all around through the act of letting go. It’s the secret to luck. Who do you need to forgive? The father who abandoned you to drugs, to death, to time. The mother who chooses the mirror instead of nurturing. The friend addicted to drugs. The cousin that owes you five dollars. The boss that overlooked you for the promotion. The waitress who didn’t bring you a lemon. The president that started a war. The government raising your taxes. Forgiveness comes in every size imaginable. Just like people. Forgive someone for something tonight before you go to sleep. Even if the person is me for making you think of what it will take to let yourself forgive. You’ll sleep better than you have in ages. So will the other person too.