And discover that the prisoner was you. -Lewis B. Smedes

Grudge holding kinda feels good.

I go over and over in my mind how I’ve been wronged. I’m the victim — he’s the bad guy. I ruminate. I regurgitate his words to me — making them sound even more evil than they were that night. I think I might even add an ominous soundtrack to the whole event in my mind to spice it up a little. Lame, I know.

Ugh. This grudge is killing me.

Why do I keep tripping on what is behind me? I’m not even going that way. It’s been two years since it happened. Hard, cruel words that slashed at me like a hundred knives thrown into my chest. I think I still might be bleeding from the words he used.

How could he say those things to me? Didn’t he know that I was just trying to help? I mean, wasn’t it obvious? Wasn’t it?

But, then I remember that he is a broken person. He’s got his own demons that he’s tripping up on every day.

They say not to let the words of a broken person define you. I know I am not who he said I was that awful night. He had it wrong.

Maybe I should accept the apology that I will never receive.

Maybe it’s time to forgive him and release both of us from prison.