Nor am I one to forget.

When someone I love hurts me, it hurts me deeply.

The people I value, the people I keep close, the people I keep my loyalty to hurt me, I can’t help but feel an ache within my heart.

It saddens me. It saddens me to where I can’t think of anything else.

I wallow in sorrow and isolate myself in thought.

I remind myself of just exactly why I care about that individual. I remind myself of the memories we made together. I remind myself how much I loved them.

These thoughts get the best of me, dissolving my sadness into an insatiable rage.

If this person hurt me so carelessly should I even care for them anymore?

I start to build walls; I would rather be alone then let them in again.

I ignore them completely. I don’t acknowledge them. I work tirelessly to hold a grudge.

And it’s left at that.

No closure. No communication. Connection is cut, and that’s the end.

Resentment that seethes at a mere glance.

Stale vexation.

To forgive and forget is a statement I wish I could act on. But I’m trying. I’m trying to be more forgiving.

I’m trying to sympathize with those who have hurt me. I’m trying to look past the wrongs. I’m trying to understand.

I can’t forget what they did, unfortunately. They broke my trust; they broke the ties.

I want to be better and I want to see others do better even if they’ve hurt me. Just not with me.

I’m trying to move forward. I’m trying to forgive.