forgiveness is one of the most fascinating of notions.
it appears counter-productive, naive, and self effacing.
defying human instinct, forgiveness presents itself as a mistake made by those who were simply too kind to see clearly.
in reality, forgiveness is an act of liberation. it releases the chains attached to the trapped, yet maintains the scars to remind them not to repeat old mistakes.
forgiveness is only capable of being attained by the most intelligent, the most mature, the most sagacious of souls.
though i witnessed its beauty unfold like vines around me, i was never quite able to grasp onto it myself.
once i was hurt, no matter how slightly, i never completely recovered.
i forgave because i had to, without ever truly learning how.
i committed the act as a formality, forgetting that the unresolved feelings would arise unexpectedly, resulting in noxious destruction.
i don't even bother to make an attempt at self-forgiveness.
my deep seated vexation towards myself contains more knots than i am capable of untangling.
i do not deserve that degree of compassion.
perhaps one day, when i have thoroughly experienced significant pain, i will familiarize myself with the process, and wholly understand what it means to forgive.
until then, i will admire and appreciate the strength of the noble from afar.
i am in awe of their intellect and sophistication.
i am indebted to their virtue eternally.
