People say that I forgive too easily. That not everyone deserves forgiveness. What they don’t know is my motives are selfish. It’s just me, trying to breathe.
I grew up in chaos. Anger. Conflict. I don’t know who I would have been if not for that. Would I have battled depression? Would I have battled my head? Would I have spent my entire life trying to measure up? The worst thing in the world is to know that you will never know what you might have been.
As an adult, I abhor conflict. I hate it. Typing the word fills me with anxiety. I can’t bear it.
I wonder if everyone spends their life searching for that one elusive thing. Mine isn’t happiness- I know and have known happiness. My children fill my heart with more happiness than they will ever know. I don’t even think that it’s love. I’ve known that, too. I never knew what love was until I held Will for the first time and knew that I would die for him, no questions asked. Yes, I know and have known fierce, animalistic, unconditional love. Three times over. I think what I crave is safety.
I forgive because I can’t tolerate the alternative. I forgive because I need forgiveness. I forgive because I have to. I just don’t forget.