About forgiveness
The rat bastard who contributed half of my genetic material sent me a birthday card.
I managed to get him to stop calling me late last year...you'd think he'd get the message when I never picked up the phone, but I had to send him a text before he figured it out.
He wants to reconnect. He wants my forgiveness, even though he says he knows he doesn't deserve it. He knows that I believed in him, but he's just a sinner like everyone else, and we should be looking to God as the only one who's perfect, because the reason we are sinners in an imperfect world is to demonstrate God's grace or something.
It's enough to make me decide to be a Wiccan, if it wasn't such a foofy religion.
I've never stayed mad at anyone this long, ever. Of course, no one in my life has ever done anything this awful before. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to forgive him for what he did to my sister. That's not mine to forgive. But I don't even know if I can forgive him for what he's done to me. It's like the person I thought was my father is dead. He wasn't a perfect person, but I didn't believe him capable of what he did. He shattered my family, and it's almost a year after it all came out, and we're still picking up the pieces.
It probably means I'm a horrible person, but I don't really want to forgive him. Even if I wanted to, I'm not about to "reconnect" with him. Alex and I are ready to start having kids, and I can't trust my own father to be around them, even if it wouldn't be a violation of his suspended sentence to let him. Alex still doesn't trust Mom to have charge of them, which means one giant leg of my potential support system is gone.
The ripples of this are going to keep going for awhile. I don't know if there will ever be forgiveness; I don't know if I want there to be. The evil part of me says the thing that will hurt him the most will be knowing he can have no contact with his grandchildren until they're 18. And there's something satisfying about that.
I managed to get him to stop calling me late last year...you'd think he'd get the message when I never picked up the phone, but I had to send him a text before he figured it out.
He wants to reconnect. He wants my forgiveness, even though he says he knows he doesn't deserve it. He knows that I believed in him, but he's just a sinner like everyone else, and we should be looking to God as the only one who's perfect, because the reason we are sinners in an imperfect world is to demonstrate God's grace or something.
It's enough to make me decide to be a Wiccan, if it wasn't such a foofy religion.
I've never stayed mad at anyone this long, ever. Of course, no one in my life has ever done anything this awful before. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to forgive him for what he did to my sister. That's not mine to forgive. But I don't even know if I can forgive him for what he's done to me. It's like the person I thought was my father is dead. He wasn't a perfect person, but I didn't believe him capable of what he did. He shattered my family, and it's almost a year after it all came out, and we're still picking up the pieces.
It probably means I'm a horrible person, but I don't really want to forgive him. Even if I wanted to, I'm not about to "reconnect" with him. Alex and I are ready to start having kids, and I can't trust my own father to be around them, even if it wouldn't be a violation of his suspended sentence to let him. Alex still doesn't trust Mom to have charge of them, which means one giant leg of my potential support system is gone.
The ripples of this are going to keep going for awhile. I don't know if there will ever be forgiveness; I don't know if I want there to be. The evil part of me says the thing that will hurt him the most will be knowing he can have no contact with his grandchildren until they're 18. And there's something satisfying about that.