Tuesday, October 9, 2012

The List: #18

This week on the list:
18. What has been the most difficult thing you have had to forgive?

Not a lot of bad things have happened to me in my life. Sure, I tend to be a moving target while in a vehicle, but I've made it out alive, so that doesn't count. And I had to move when I didn't want to. Who hasn't? I can't think of very many things where I've been so MAD at someone that I struggled to forgive them.

Most of the time when someone needs forgiven, it's myself. Because I opened my big mouth, was too stubborn to let something go, or made a mountain out of a mole hill. 

When I read this week's question, I had one thing pop into my mind. I'm going to go with that one. 

This particular event took place while I was still in college at KU. It was right after my wreck, Matt & I were still in the "new" phase of our relationship. We'd been dating probably 4 or 5 months. 
I was a freaking emotional train-wreck after my accident. It really took a toll on me. A couple of my girlfriends were trying to cheer me up and asked me to go to a dance club to forget my worries. They were and still are the best of my friends. [you know you who are, no need to name names] 

Anyway, we went to the dance club and were having a great time. It was packed full of people and in my emotional state, I just didn't feel like dancing with random strangers. Better yet, I didn't feel like being in a crowd at all. I was beginning to panic and feel like the room was just closing in around me. There were flashing lights, people everywhere, and blaring music. Ideally, not the best place to make your introduction back into the social scene. 
I tried dancing, I tried having fun - none of it was flying.

After I had practically ruined their evening by being a  invalid, sitting in a corner moping, we went back to my house. I had to work at 7 am the next morning, so I gave them my bed and I took my sister's in another room since she wasn't home that night. I laid down and texted Matt, and boy was I in a state. I was irrationally upset they had taken me there, knowing that I was still a freaking wreck [when in reality, they were just trying to make me feel better], and he knew how upset I was. He told me he would come pick me up and we could talk. 

So I snuck out. [I know..] Out of my own house. And left my friends there, assuming they were already asleep.
Until I found out later that they saw me leave and were upset with me for it. 

Of course they were.
What kind of shitty friend just ups and leaves their friends in her own house?

I can't really justify it, other than to say that I wasn't in my right mind. I felt like Matt was the only one who understood. He was there with me, after all. He saw me at my most vulnerable, fearing that I was dead. I was beaten down with my car window, dragged out of my car by the jaws of life, clothes shredded, black eye, blood running down my face, bruises covering my body, seat belt thrashes on my skin - it wasn't a pretty sight. 

I always tried to be the strong one in our group of friends. Put up a mask so no one knew what I was thinking, or what I was feeling. And sure, I bitched to them, talked about boys, all the usual stuff. But what I regret most was that I didn't just open up to them.
I didn't just go to them and...cry about it. I should have. I should have just let go. And this wouldn't have happened.I wouldn't have felt like I needed to call Matt to come fix everything. 
They could have helped me fix it.
But I didn't.

Everyone makes mistakes, I know this. But I think about this particular mistake constantly. Here we are five years later and I'm still punishing myself for it. 
I was still a kid - 18 years old. I made a bad decision. I knew it was wrong at the time, but I was in so deep that I just let it happen. It seems silly now, just re-telling the story. 

I'm telling you because 
1) I know those friends read this
and 
2) because I'm forgiving myself.

I'm married, living with that man I trusted with all of my heart, so much that I went as far as hurting my friends to cry on his shoulder. What's done is done. I'm not even sure they remember this, but it still bugs me all the time. I think about telling them I'm sorry all over again, but I just never got the guts to do it.

So, to those girls - I love you both. Always have. I'm sorry that I didn't come to you to cry instead. And that I didn't have the lady-balls to tell you what I was feeling.
 If I could do it all over again, I would say that we should go to see a chick flick, come home and eat popcorn and talk about all the stupid shit in our lives that is going wrong, no matter how insignificant it felt.

I hope you have forgiven me, but I can understand if you haven't. After all, I'm just now forgiving myself.
Just know that I'm sorry, with my whole heart. 

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