Stories That Never Get Told

forgive you

I forgave you when you showed up to our anniversary dinner 30 minutes late. I don't know if it was the sheepish smile on your face, the rain drenched clothes that clung to your frame, or the beaten flowers that were gripped tightly in your hand. I just smiled and said it was okay. And it was.

I forgave you when you told your sister about our fight even though you knew I liked to keep us private. When she called me and told me she knew I feared the worst. I feared she would tell me that I was no good for you because after all, wasn't that the truth? But no. She told me your were sleeping on her couch, and how much you missed me. She told me that despite your tough exterior, the warmth that was hidden in the interior was worth the battles. She was rooting for us, and I nearly began to cry. I forgave you because hearing her say that gave me the courage to finally call you. I have never been more relieved to hear your voice.

I forgave you when you broke my favorite class. I forgave you when you forgot to pick up the milk even after I told you six times to do so. I forgave you when you wrecked my car beyond repair because having you safe at my side was all that mattered.

But I cannot forgive you now. I cannot let this go because you knew how much this was going to hurt me but you did it anyway. I gave you the weapon to pierce my heart, but I never thought you would use it against me.

I cannot forgive you because you have gone where I cannot follow. You held my hand and told me everything was going to be okay. I cannot forgive you for leaving me behind, and allowing the last words you said to me become a lie.

I cannot forgive you because I should be picking out rings with you. Not making the painful decision of where to lay you down for the last time. I should be in bed laughing with you, not sobbing into your pillow while I desperately try to commit your smell to memory.

I cannot forgive you, but baby, don't think that doesn't mean that I don't miss you every day.