My Symphony: Iron Doors by The Lighthouse and the Whaler
When I was 13, the shallow, naive, vapid person that I was, I would get myself in heated fights and arguments and I would always say, “I don’t forgive and I don’t forget, so don’t fuck with me”. I don’t really know what I was thinking, except that I wasn’t really thinking. Who am I to be so cold and bitter? Who am I to be so mad at the world and the people in it that have disappointed me? Who am I to live a life of hatred, anger and coldness? I am nobody. And for this, I forgive.
I forgive my brother for being utterly annoying and self-righteous.
I forgive the people back home who haven’t made it to my present life – I forgive them for being a thing from the past.
I forgive my English teacher in Eleventh Grade for not buying me the lunch that she promised me, and for not returning my favorite Greek Mythology book that I let her borrow.
I forgive all of the fucked-up drug addicts in this world. I know it is not entirely their fault. What happened to them and to their lives could have happened to anyone of us.
I forgive Nicholas Sparks for writing novels that have caused millions of people to get confused about the real nature of love and its naked identity.
I forgive my Mom for not being in my life physically for the past twelve years. I forgive her for not being around when I had my first zit, or when I flunked a test in Elementary School for the first time, or when I had my first crush, or when my voice started to get a little deeper. I forgive her for being away from me all the time. I forgive her; I do. Because she’s my mother. And at the end of the day, she’s the one person I love the most.
I forgive my Dad, too. I forgive him for being so thrifty. He wouldn’t even consider a three-dollar cup of coffee cheap. I forgive him for his dishonesty and his being secretive and closed off. I forgive him for thinking that I am too weak and too prissy to be his nail boy when he was building that tree house when I was six. Because I do know how to use hammers and nails! But I forgive him for believing otherwise. I forgive him because he’s my dad. And at the end of the day, he’s the first guy in my life. He was the one who made me stand on his wide, strong palms and carried me around the house and the streets, making me feel like I was the best thing that has ever happened to him and mom.
Lastly, I forgive myself.
Kenn, I forgive you for being such a disaster right now. You are like, I don’t know, Magnitude 8.6 earthquake, but I forgive you. I forgive you for feeling totally alone, lost, scared and vulnerable. I forgive your non-stop drama, and the way that you see the world. I forgive you for not being so proud of yourself these days, and for not having a backbone ninety percent of the time. I forgive your flaws, and your heartaches, and your romantic-idealistic take on life. I forgive you for the way you handle your emotions. I forgive you for almost killing yourself because at one moment you felt like life was not worth living. I forgive you for your weaknesses and for feeling like you’re never going to be good enough. I forgive all of your mistakes and your shenanigans. I forgive you if sometimes all you want to do is to just run out of the room in the middle of the class and go to the Sea Wall and watch the birds do their thing as the sky falls in closer and closer to you.
I forgive you. I do. Because at the end of the day, it is what it is. At the end of the day all of this is your life. Nothing more, but definitely nothing less.