Is there is something in your past that sickens you, a secret so terrible you can hardly admit it to yourself, much less anyone else. Something that makes you want to smash the mirror, rather than see your own face?
I mine, my secret, unforgivable deed.
When I think back to that terrible act, I hate myself. I cannot forgive my error, though the aggrieved party has long since done so.
Living a life of integrity is more than owning your mistakes.
Yes, I own this. I have apologized, in word and deed. I have been forgiven. I have never done like it since.
Yet I haven’t received absolution, because, although the aggrieved has forgiven me, I cannot absolve myself.
For the offense, thoughtless and in the moment, goes against my very core. It showed me that I am not the man I thought I was, not the man I want to be.
When I think back on that moment, I am nauseated.
I cannot undo it.
I cannot erase it.
I cannot let it go, the wound is too deep, the scar too painful.
To grow, to change, to improve, you must be your own greatest critic, and I am mine.
The only benefit, the only thing I can take from this is to constantly compare who I am to whom I want to be.
Am I improving? Am I getting closer? Do I deserve the forgiveness I received from the other, but cannot give to myself?
This is my standard, this is my goal and as hard as it is to do, reliving that terrible moment pushes me to be better.
It is carrion comfort, but it is all I have.
