On Forgiveness

I had someone repeatedly beg me to “not be mad at me for the things I did,” his words, a while ago. 

What exactly did he do? Which thing, of the several I’d accused in the past, was I accurate about? I knew what I was angry about, but without an actual confession, with a blanket appeal for forgiveness without the itemized list, what was I to not be mad about? 

I will never know. 

That was December of 2024. It took me to October of 2025 to tell him in writing, that, why no, forgiveness was permanently off the table. In the same note, I basically told that person that he would not be in the line of work he is in today had I acted within my rights decades ago, had I known better at the time. 

I’m pretty sure that is the line that earned me permanent silence on his end. 

The forever silence is new. For someone who likes to have the last word, I wonder exactly how hard it is for him to restrain himself. The thing is, when that person is silent, it’s not because he wants to be. It’s because he knows it’s in his best interest to be. 

And, it took me until April of this year to decide that yes, I was ready to extend forgiveness. I told that individual he owes me nothing; there are no strings attached; I forgive him. 

And what has morphed since then is a feeling of pity for the smallness that is his outlook on life and relationships. 

Opportunists sell themselves short on what capacity for human connection they may be capable of in their lifetimes. I’ve known more than one in my lifetime. 

And just because certain vocations reward opportunism and narcissistic traits, success in those fields does not mean those people have any greater happiness because of their success. 

In this particular case, I’m pretty darn sure that this person goes around punishing himself on the regular. A universal truth is that professional success does not mirror life satisfaction. In fact, my theory is that it is possible to use professional endeavors to mete out self-flagellation in real-time in ways that only those who have known us — really known us — recognize immediately. 

And so, I actually do stand by that decision to forgive. I am choosing to move on with life. There actually isn’t a lot that would make my already happy and full life much happier. His lost access to me has been a precious gift I didn’t realize I needed. 

Writing is far more fulfilling, and I have three lifetimes’ worth of material. I’m only just getting started. 

And in this case, I am the smarter person, I am the stronger person, and I get the better sleep at night, I am certain.