It’s 5:00 in the morning. I can see a faint light outside my window. A rooster crows nearby (oh yes! A neighbor in a quiet subdivision opted for a rooster as a pet). Thirty more minutes and the sun will be up. I imagine my neighbors rousing from their sweet slumber. Some may even have an egg sizzling in their pan, rice ready to serve, breads in the toaster, coffee brewing and waiting to be savored. While every one is getting ready to take on today’s challenges, here I am, furiously typing thoughts that had been nagging me since last night after I exchanged text with someone. (Who I happen to have killed many times in my head last year. No kidding.) I couldn’t go to bed. I hate that it put me in an insomniac state, even if it helped my blog out of its comatose form.
Funny how one word can pierce your heart. How that one single word can bring back a memory you never want to be reminded of. How often do I hear people say they are sorry? Some people misuse the word that it loses its true value and depth. So how is it any different now? Suddenly it took a whole new meaning. It brought me back to places I never want to go back to. It felt like last year was just yesterday.
Just like that, the hole in my heart is visible once more. I hurt all over again. I shed some tears. I spent my night endlessly contemplating why it still hurt. It had been ten months. I thought I’ve fully moved on from it. Ten months were long enough (or so I thought).
I refuse to dwell on it. I am not willing to let the past affect me thus. But it broke my heart all over again. All I could reply was that the best form of apology is to never have to say you are sorry again. He prayed for forgiveness from me every day. I didn’t know what to say. Was that sincere? I had refused him when he tried to reach out a few months ago. Is he forgiven? I don’t know. I’m not really confident that I have. Nor am I sure that I haven’t. I wonder why it still hurt…
Maybe I haven’t forgiven myself yet? (Or maybe I just really need some sleep.)