Forgiveness

Last year, I experienced one of the biggest betrayals of my life. I don’t tend to have much drama in my life, so it was shocking to discover that someone I’d been friends with for almost twenty years was not who he portrayed himself as. His wife reached out to me following his admission into a mental hospital and over several days we both shared stories that didn’t line up. Some of them were innocent, but there was financial, mental, emotional, and I believe even a little physical abuse. Lies were spoken about me and my character and the illusion of a man I once considered a brother died over a text message.

The things his family went through were far worse than anything I encountered, and I wouldn’t dare put my pain anywhere near the injustice they went through, I was still hurt. I don’t have many friends, and the ones that I do have I’m extremely loyal to. This was so unexpected and so hurtful that I knew I had to cut ties. When he reached out a few weeks later, I didn’t respond. There was nothing to say.

Over the past few months, I’ve thought about my old friend often. On several occasions I considered emailing him and just letting him know exactly how unfair and unkind he was. I wanted to off-load on him and lash out at him. I spent years defending him, supporting him, and at one point even saving his job, and the thanks I got was being trash talked to his wife and being lied to over and over again.

I’ve wondered if some of my more recent anger can be contributed to this feeling of betrayal. I’ve journaled about it some and tried to find peace, but I just wasn’t able to find the right words. Then, over the weekend, something happened that changed all of that.

On Friday, my mom and aunt came by to visit and I wanted them to meet my cats. Khaleesi was fostered in a home with a large family and lots of cats, and she’s usually been a bit more brave when dealing with people. I assumed she’d be more easy going than my other cat Jupiter, who was raised in a feral colony and wasn’t socialized with people.

When Jupiter came out to see my mom and aunt, I figured enough time had passed for Khaleesi. So, I found her hiding in a closet and I called her out. I picked her up and I attempted to take her up the stairs, but she was not having it. I had made a huge error in judgement. I’d broken the number one cat rule, don’t force a cat to do something physically and for the rest of the day, she stayed hidden in the closet or under my bed. I felt terrible.

She was given extra Churru and wet food, and I was thankful she still purred when I laid on the floor to pet her. I love my cats, and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt them, and I just wanted her goofy self to come out and play on her Catasaurus or chase her favorite toy around, but instead she stayed hidden. So, I took my iPad upstairs, and I laid on the bed, periodically checking on her, letting her know I was sorry.

While wallowing in my guilt, I checked my email, and I saw I had a message on my Gmail account. I don’t use this email anymore and haven’t for years, but occasionally a random message pops up in there. I clicked the folder in Fastmail, and I saw the name of my former friend. I didn’t want to open it. I even went downstairs and got a soda before taking a deep breath and reading what was inside.

Inside was an apology. Not a great one. In fact, I’d argue there was a bit of the manipulation he was known for behind some of the words, but it was an apology.

Had it been any other day, I think I would have interpreted this as my opening to let loose. To say all the things that I’ve had bouncing around my head for the past nine months and to just unleash. But I think Khaleesi changed that. I think my own guilt for hurting her allowed for some empathy that immediately neutralized any desire to offload. Instead, I wrote just a few short sentences back, thanking him for the apology and wishing things had been different. I encouraged him to seek help, and I hoped one day he could make something of the time he still has.

It was short, professional, and kind. The opposite of what I’ve dreamt of writing.

There is no room for this friendship, nor reconciliation, but on Friday night I found a little room for forgiveness and in doing so, a weight was lifted off of my shoulders.

An hour later, Khaleesi followed me down the stairs and decided to play with Jupiter. I was forgiven too Friday night, and life has become just a little bit better.