Friday I had a rough evening. I was homesick after two weeks away, and my brain wouldn’t let some things go. I went to sleep through tears, and begged Ian, “If you ARE still out there, and you did care at all, let me know.” I have a number of friends who claim sensitivity, and it was one of the rare times that I decided to open myself up, just in case.
I went to sleep and had kind of put it out of my head in the morning. Until I got a message from one of those sensitive friends. He told me Ian had visited him the night before, and in short, told him, “It’s beautiful here. Tell them I’m sorry.”
Now, I’m the skepticalest of the skeptics, and fully understand that people will find signs for things they wish were true in whatever may kind of conveniently happen. But the timing on that one was pretty interesting.
I tried to fight the idea, tried to just chalk it up to coincidence, but I did essentially promise that night to keep my mind open. Ian didn’t believe in any of this, so he, of anyone, should understand how difficult it is to put skepticism aside and let the possibility exist. But I’m trying. The timing was just too perfect.
I’m choosing to believe that he does still exist. That he sees us, and still cares. And that he apologized, which, while unnecessary in my head, gives my heart some… something… not peace, not happiness, nor satisfaction, but something. Something good.
I still miss him. I still wish he were here. But I forgive him. I had no idea that I hadn’t. Or that I needed to do so. But since the apology, I did, and some part of me feels… not better, exactly, but eased.
Finding the right words is difficult for this, because they don’t exactly exist. At least not in my lexicon.
I’m still sad, and I still miss him, and I will never be the same. But I forgive him. And that’s something.
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