I forgive you.
As one should not blame the blind for failing to see, or the deaf for not hearing the melodies we sing to you, I cannot blame you for what you are.
I understand it comes from a place of shame, of pain, and from a childhood deprived of love.
As the grain of sand lacerates the delicate insides of an oyster, the wounded creature covers it with beauty to make a pearl; likewise, you created your image, your glowing, lavish illusion to the world…But inside there is still that grain of sand scratching at your core. That is what I remember when you lie so blatantly: it’s just more coating for your pearl.
Those who I would blame are gone, and my life is too precious and short to waste time hating them, or you. Though you might be a willing – if not eager- tutor, I have no desire, no inclination to learn how to hate. I was ever the rebellious pupil.
I love you.
My heart is vast, with room to spare; my love costs nothing and I give it freely.
Now I understand how badly you need love, I offer it willingly to fill your void as best I can…But it is only love that I will feed you.
If you demand anger, frustration, sorrow, you will not be sated by me. All I could offer then is my pity, but I mask it well, for I do not wish to wound you. I see the grain of sand, I know your modus operandi, but I do not wish to crack your pearl, it gives me no joy to do so.
My heart is strong.
It is more resilient than you can imagine, and each new onslaught, each storm you might try rage against me rushes past like a breeze and leaves me intact and whole, confusing and confounding you, for my heart is not made with walls and foundations: it is a vast, wide ocean, its waves breaking, ebbing and flowing, but always full and deep, timeless and unstoppable. You cannot control me any more than an oyster controls the tide, but I let you believe you are master of the waves, for it gives you some peace and causes me no harm.
You do not understand, pearl in my depths, but I do.
My heart is strong, I love you and I forgive you.