Sometimes (only sometimes), when I think of you, I rage. In those moments, I'm full of resentment and my throat is tear-choked. I wish forgiving was easier, but forgiving you in particular becomes too big of an expectation for me to fulfill, knowing well that you didn't mean it when you said you were sorry. So I sit there with my anger and my hurt and a million other inexplicable feelings, and cuss you out. And hope you drown in guilt and shame for all that you put me through.
But for the most part, I am okay (I think). Although you never apologised, on most days I end up forgiving you anyway. Not because what you did deserves forgiveness, but because I want to tend to my open wounds, and have no capacity for hate. Because I want to open myself to love again, no matter how long it takes.
So to anyone who has had to settle for half an apology, I am sorry. Wholeheartedly, this time. Because you deserve so much more than an apology that echoes emptiness. Sometimes I wish there were no dishonest apologies, and the only time people apologised was when they truly meant it. I know this is a long awaited one and I wish you weren't made to wait for so long.
I am sorry for all the times you were made to feel small, like you didn't matter, like your boundaries weren't important enough to be respected. I am sorry for all the pain that they caused you, for all the lies that they fed you, and for all the bitter memories that they gave you. I am sorry that they made you question your worth. It's hard to believe, but trust me, you didn't deserve any of it.
I hope when you rest your head on your pillow tonight, you fall asleep knowing well that you deserve to heal, and deserve to feel free from all the resentment. I know this is far from the apology you wished for, but unlike the excuses you were made to accept in the name of a so-called apology, I can assure you that this one is as sincere as it could be.
Author: Yashika Sukhija