I forgive you for the silence you become in the face of awkwardness, anger and emotions. I forgive you for sometimes abandoning me when I need you the most. I forgive you for that time when I was seven years old when you disappeared. I forgive you for not remembering the things you need to remember in order to forget.
I forgive you for not having the courage to say no. I know that in the past your “no” led to violence and sometimes un-consensual things. So I understand when you choose to exchange silence in the present moment for tears, self loathing and hot showers.
I forgive you for all the times you tried to destroy me. For the times you used a razor to open up your wrists, or the times you smoked box after box of cigarettes just so you could accelerate the cancer. In retrospect, it was a bad idea and you will probably get cancer when you have decided you want to live forever.
I know a part of you is angry. I say this because I have seen you, well once, in a mirror, break down and cry like you had things growing in your chest that you wanted to uproot. I know there are parts of you that you think are not deserving of love and tenderness and I forgive you for that too.
I forgive you for all these things because you are aware now. Of all the things in your head. I forgive you because you are trying to get out of bed, to make it through the day, to love yourself even on days when it’s hard to be inside your head. I forgive you because you deserve to forgiven.
Lots of love,