Forgiveness

I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God's got a sick sense of humour
That when I die, I expect to find Him laughing.

— Depeche Mode

I have so many nasty things to say about so many nasty people. People whom I thought were my friends as they are my ex's friends.

But I would rather not say anything bad. I will just say that I forgive them even if they have not asked for my forgiveness; because that is the honourable thing to do. I am my father's son, after all, and I will not disappoint him by being petty.

I will forgive them for judging me. For hurting me. They hurt me so much. So much that one night in confinement I prayed that I wouldn't wake up in the morning. But God being God, I woke up at 10 in the evening and I couldn't sleep any more. And I ended up thinking, imagining, looking at a face that was never but was always there. That ray of sunshine.

Silver. I'd like to say that I thought of giving her Silver because evil stayed away from it. But the truth of the matter is, I wanted to give her either Titanium or Platinum. But I was weak and lazy and my sinuses still bled because of the foul air inside the mall. I had to get from the first decent store that I saw and they didn't have Titanium nor Platinum. I will have to learn to forgive myself, I suppose. Maybe there will be a next time.

But at the moment, it seems there will never be a next time. I will not get what I want. But I'm alive and perhaps that's just what I need to be. And as they say, there is always hope as long as one is alive.

So, I will hope. In silence.

Well, not really. I've brought Pepito and his Zoom and his Marshall to the office. I don't think I can be silent. But I will hope. Still. As quietly as I can.