This process

So arduous and healing leaves vicious scars.

I thought I’d forgiven you, and yet as days pass and I feel you haven’t given what you owe, I feel things like dislike, and disgust, and even hate blossom.
As I come to accept who you actually truly are, and can calculate what you’ve cost us, while your life, whatever there is of it, with your offender status seems to be so much nicer than I feel you should have.

And I am responsible for your freedom. And your complete lack of gratitude with respect to the love I had for you is what fuels me.

I don’t wish harm on people, I know better than that, but the way that I feel about you, somedays I’d rather you were in some other place where you could not lie to people. If you can’t tell the truth, and own what you did, then you shouldn’t be allowed to lie and pretend that what you did didn’t happen.

And I realize how wrong that is. That I shouldn’t feel this way at all. I should simply be greatful for the struggles you gave me, and that I have my freedom. It’s been so long and I’ve wasted so much time lamenting what you did and the loss and cost, instead of being able to breathe all this oxygen and love and light.