let it be

me: when does it end?

sugardaddyjeff: believe it or not, when you say it does.

I don't even know if I'm jaded anymore...

Forgiveness means letting go, and letting go means separation. And it sucks. To forgive, apparently, is to let go of our perceived right to punish our offender. We basically say, “You fucked up, but I won’t hold it against you any longer.” I think this also implies an underlying belief that said person is better than how they have acted in the past – that we believe they can be more caring, honest, have more integrity, etc. So by forgiving we not only release them from the punishment we would like to inflict upon them, but we also release them from the bondage that would confine them to forever being the offender we knew them to be. We release them to become more.

Sounds good, right? Everybody wins? Not so much. To forgive and let go also means that we separate ourselves from the pain and anger we have been holding on to, and from the offender we have been relating to (even if only in our mind, our phantasy if you will). This, I think, is the hardest part of forgiveness. We want to hold on to our pain and condemn the other as a rotten offender; there is a sort of power we feel in this. We feel as though we rule over them by forever condemning them and wishing, if not imparting, punishment on them. And if feels damn good. They deserve that punishment, right? They deserve to be seen for the no good, low down, dirty, rotten, motha-f***er (the crudeness is meant to be humorous, fyi; sorry if it offends) that we have seen them to be. So separating ourselves from this power that we believe we have gained only adds to the pain from which we have already suffered. And perhaps we fear that doing so again gives the power to our said offender. But is that true? I guess it would be if we thought it meant going right back to the destructive relationship we once were in. But if that is the case, then forgiveness was never complete.

If forgiveness means letting go of our power to punish and giving the offender the freedom to be better, then going back to the destructive relationship does none of that. It leaves the offender as the rotten person. But if we were to set a boundary that forced them to change how they act in relation to us, that would be offering the chance to become more. Such a boundary would in effect say, “I believe you are better than you have been, and I want you to have the chance to see that. So I cannot be the person you once knew me to be, because then neither of us is free.” But what is this boundary? I wish I had an answer. I’m not even sure what it looks like in my own life. But I know that it involves a separation from the person and relationship I once knew and so often feel drawn back to. I think for me it meant coming to a place where I could truly say, “I believe you are a better person, and I wish that you could see that in yourself. So I’m giving you the chance to see and become that, but I don’t know if I’ll be around to see such a beautiful change happen.” Are we friends? I don’t know. All I know is that I have to maintain a boundary that gives him the chance to be better. And the separation is painful. There is loss in the freedom. But it is good, and it is right.

I guess sometimes love means doing what’s best and not getting what you want. Kind of like the end of Casablanca, where you want to protest the separation because you know it means the loss of love, but you can’t because you know it was right. I thought I had a jadedness that could not be cured; then I saw Casablanca. And now, I don’t even know if I’m jaded anymore. But I know I forgave, and I feel both freedom and loss, and hopefully something good was done.

To end with, I will follow suit of Pitch and include the song of the day - Kelly Clarkson's (because she gets us) Sober:

And I don't know
This could break my heart or save me
Nothing's real
Until you let go completely
So here I go with all my thoughts I've been saving
So here I go with all my fears weighing on me

Three months and I'm still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers
But I know it's never really over

And I don't know
I could crash and burn but maybe
At the end of this road I might catch a glimpse of me
So I won't worry about my timing, I want to get it right
No comparing, second guessing, no not this time

Three months and I'm still breathing
Been a long road since those hands I left my tears in but I know
It's never really over, no

Three months and I'm still standing here
Three months and I'm getting better yeah
Three months and I still am

Three months and it's still harder now
Three months I've been living here without you now
Three months yeah, three months

Three months and I'm still breathing
Three months and I still remember it
Three months and I wake up

Three months and I'm still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers