No Forgiveness

A comic I will not link to because it’s maddening prompted this post.

I have a big problem with the concept of forgiveness. It’s supposed to be “healing”. As far as I’ve been able to see, it’s a way to excuse the bad things people do.

The comic was about bullying. In summary, the artist’s childhood bully was once her friend, but ditched her because she (the bully) became popular. Artist finds the bully on Facebook years later to discover she and the other kids who mistreated her have grown up and live normal lives while the artist wishes she could erase those awful years from her life.

I know the feeling.

The title described it as a “heart-melting comic”, but there is nothing that melts my heart about knowing people can mistreat or flat-out ruin years of your life with no remorse and carry on like normal while you live with the after effects. I consider those people borderline sociopaths.

Yes, people can argue there’s no point in being angry years later and, to an extent, I agree. However, as far as I am concerned, I have the right to be angry with my bullies because they made my school life a living hell, and the adults had zero power to stop it (heads up: “tell an adult” is the most worthless advice that can ever be given in regards to bullying). They are part of the reason I want to burn my childhood to ashes, and I am supposed to forgive them because time passed? Because “kids will be kids” {so, why bother with discipline?)? Of course, they’ve moved on. Bullies don’t have remorse or they wouldn’t do it. But they do not deserve forgiveness and I won’t forgive them because, even if I will never see them again, I refuse to justify and excuse what they did to me!

No, it’s not okay to hurt someone because it will be in the past. No, it’s not okay for children to be bullies because they are children. No, time passing does not excuse someone’s abusive actions. And no, I do not wish any of my bullies a happy life. Perhaps it now makes me border on sociopathic, but for what they did to me for all of those years, I wish them nothing less than the absolute hell they gave me!

No, I don’t live my life angry every second. The only reason I even thought about it is I came across that comic. But I do not, and I will never, forgive my bullies for how they treated me.

Forgiveness is not a right and not everyone deserves the privilege.

I Think I May Miss Them

Shockingly, I made it through to the end of my trade school program.

I have one day left, and it’s not a full day. I have to go to take a final test, but after I finish, I can immediately go home. I also have one more payment due, which will be paid next Friday.

I’m currently waiting on a call for an interview for an internship position. If I’m approved for it, I’ll be working in a public school in a town that is, thankfully, much closer to my home than my school is. I’m very nervous about it because it’ll be my first interview for a non-retail job, which means the “cute and cheerful” persona won’t cut it.

Yesterday, our second-to-last day, we had a pizza party. Yes, despite being on a 500-calorie diet, I participated and went to gym later to burn it off. We took a few pictures too, and I have one of the whole class. Then, a feeling I never expected hit me.

We are really leaving.

I didn’t become friends with my classmates. We were friendly to each other, yes, but no friendships formed. Yet, when I look at the class picture I have on my phone, I think about how I spent the last eight months with this group and Monday will really be our last day as a class. Unless the stars align, chances are none of us will see each other again. I looked forward to internship, and to the end of this program, since I started it, especially since I had to withdraw and re-enter. Now that it’s here, I suddenly have an emotional conflict going on.

I truly may miss them.

I don’t know why. As I said, no friendships formed. There are no special bonds. I don’t know them beyond a few mentions of their personal lives here and there. There’s no reason I should feel this way. But I do.

For the sake of preserving their privacy, I won’t post the picture here. I uploaded it to Dropbox, and saved it on an SD card in my phone, to ensure it won’t be lost. I wonder where I’ll be a year from now, and how I’ll feel if I look back on that picture in 2020. Will I remember their names?

In lieu of the class picture, I’m going to end this post with a song I haven’t listened to in a few years that writing this out has brought to mind. The “friends forever” part sure won’t happen, though.

“Somehow today, we have to say… goodbye.”

Almost Ten Years

I know 2019 started a week ago, but I want to talk about 2020 for a moment.

If I’m still where I am, August 2020 will mark ten years I have been living in the household I am. It wasn’t a choice. It was court-ordered when I was sixteen years old and I still hate them for it.

For some reason, I have a strange feeling about the last (almost) nine years I can’t quite place. I know what I was doing over those last nine years, but I feel like I don’t. I remember what happened in all those years, but I feel like those nine years passed by like a blur, despite I didn’t feel that way as they were passing. I can name significant events from each year, especially onward from 2015, but there’s still a disbelief I’ve been here for almost nine years because it does not feel like I have. I do have the feeling I’ve been here for too long, but not for nine years.

I don’t know if this is a normal feeling or a psychological trick by my brain. Either way, I do not want it to turn into ten years. That said, there is a terrifying feeling of where I will be if it doesn’t. Life isn’t a fairytale where everything always works out (even some fairytales subvert that), so there is the real possibility wherever I end up could be worse than where I currently am. That doesn’t mean I won’t try – I already am trying since I’m in school – but I’ve learned too many times the consequences of getting my hopes high.

At the moment, the month I’m looking forward to is April. Not because it’s the month of my birthday, but because it’s the month that will prove if my efforts were worth it. My final class is this month, I am supposed to take internship next month, and my class’s graduation date is March 6th. So, April will show me the outcome, if there is any, of what I’ve done. If it’s at least somewhat favorable, I won’t have to worry about that ten year mark. If not, I think that may be when I finally give up. Because, really, if the job I already have isn’t enough and school proves to have been worthless, what is left to try?

I won’t even wish for luck. I’ll wish for something – anything – good and hope I can get so much as that.

Missing Him

At my job, two co-workers I am friends with, one of whom is a manager, recently began dating. Granted, I’m not sure how long “recently” is, but to the best of my memory, about two months or so. He had a crush on her and the day he planned to finally ask her out, she (the manager) did it first. It’s a cute story, and I genuinely hope things work well for them. At the same time, I’d be a liar if I wasn’t a little bit envious.

Not because I want to date either of them, but because I wish I had the privilege of seeing my boyfriend as often as they see each other. Make no mistake. I absolutely adore my boyfriend and have eyes for no one except him, but the thirty miles between us across our neighboring states kills me inside at times. To be blatant, every time I see a couple together, I think of him and wish we could be together at that moment. I know it could be worse. He could on the other side of the country or on the other side of the world. That we can see each other the one or two times a month we manage to is a privilege in itself. But that truly doesn’t help me miss him any less.

I know there is such a thing as too much time together. That applies to us too. We’d probably kill each other if we had to spend every waking moment together. But I’d rather have too much time together than not enough. At least, we could avoid each other for a few hours or days if we were getting aggravated and make up later.

My co-workers, when they have shifts together (this particular manager does not make the schedule), will share their lunch break with each other. When she has to be on the floor, he’ll usually work with her and they’ll talk about whatever they please as they do returns or clear the floor area. Or if she’s counting out at the register to close them down for the night and we have no customers in line, they’ll chat together as she counts and he’ll walk her to back as she carries the register drawers (policy is that two people must walk with the drawers, though of course, she doesn’t let him in the cash office). I’d give anything to have that with my boyfriend. Perhaps it’d get old after a while, but again, we could avoid each other until we felt better. Really, I’d give anything for us to live in the same town, let alone have the privilege of working together at a job.

I feel bad for being envious of them. They are my friends, after all, and friends should not be jealous. I am truly happy for them since they are both sweet and funny people, and they don’t get angry if an employee talks to the one who’s the opposite gender (we had a couple at work before where the woman harassed me because her boyfriend, who was my boss and hers, would have to speak to me or I’d have to speak to him). I feel like I sound unappreciative of my boyfriend, which is not the case at all. I’d certainly rather see him only twice a month than not have him at all. I took off Fridays so if he’s not scheduled, we’re almost guaranteed to have that one day of the week together for a few hours (though I do have to work this coming Friday, and he has to work on the next, so that won’t really go into effect for two weeks).

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Absence also makes the heart break and causes it sorrow. I want what my friends have: the privilege of being a couple who can share their job. I want the thirty miles between us to be a 30 minute walk between us. I want being apart to be an option more often than it is mandatory.

I just want him to be here.