I heard people saying I was too kind to forgive. Perhaps it was easy for me to grant forgiveness because the love I had given was pure and genuine, they say.
The love was genuine. It will always stay that way whenever you walk down memory lane. But when I chose to wait for you in my apartment rather than put the extra mile to be wherever your infidelity had taken you just so I could confront and shame you in public doesn't mean I was ready to offer you forgiveness.
When I decided to fix matters discreetly rather than uploading my sentiments on social media after becoming a victim of your deception and manipulation doesn't equate to me granting you mercy.
I was doing this for myself. I seized the chance to control what goes out and what comes in. I gained command of the situation, but that doesn't necessarily mean I forgive. Forgiveness is not something you offer on a silver plate. Forgiveness is for those who repent and reflect on their actions, not those who dare to dream of being happy after throwing someone into the pit of endless torment and crippling anxiety.
Yet still, I know I am kind enough to not return the daggers that pierced and wounded me. But that doesn't mean I cannot be a monster while keeping on this sweet façade.
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The Brain is Never at Rest
PoetryHi. This is a collection of the pieces I wrote for the past years. If some of these sounded or looked familiar, it's because I've posted them in another account I used to go by. Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I hope you'll have a fu...
