More Horrid Truths

14th Feb 2013/ 15 Feb 2013

The world works in curious ways. Or rather, contradictory ways. There are things we spend our entire lives searching, but the harder we search the more it evades us. There are things we desire to know, but it does not necessarily brings us joy upon realizing.

I asked him a question. "Was it her first time?"

He evaded it the first time round. Whether on purpose or unintentionally, I no longer know.

And then, I asked him again up front. "Was it, or was it not her first time?"

He said, "It was her first time."

And my crumbled world, whatever that was left of it, crumbled away further. It seems my world now is smaller than the Vatican City with respect to the entry globe- and horrible floods and earthquakes continue to wreck my world into a smaller place.

The heart shrinks. Does it? Can you actually feel it shrink? Or...does it shrink until it is finally gone, leaving you apathetic, yet spiteful? Does the shrinking, or shrunken heart hold empathy and compassion for the rest of the world who had done you nothing wrong?

I was this close to forgiving. But upon realizing this other horrid truths, I realize I can't. I am only mortal, I am not angel, not am I a saint. Nor am I as forgiving as the Lord Almighty, as people claim. Yes, I am only mortal, a mortal as flawed as those who had sinned against me.

Why can't I forgive upon knowing that fact?

It's cause I can't bear to know that, should I ever marry him, that he had taken another girl's first time. It would no longer be the same at all. It would no longer be special. He would never be my husband. He told me such acts were to emphasize love, to share a spiritual connection with his partner. I find myself thinking, that's utter bullshit. Bullshit to the maximum. Lies again. Lies once again. It could have been avoided, but he hadn't listened. And he wanted revenge. And subsequently, he hid it for two years, participating in the relationship with me as though nothing had happened; and scolding me harshly for small time lies when he had the biggest one of all. He did all these without remorse in his eyes. That I know for when we argue, he showed his true rage. No remorse, no guilt, nothing. It was the unforgivable of the unforgivable.

He begged me to give him once chance. How could I, knowing I will hate him or the rest of my life? The kindness fell short, wanting to reach out to him and to comfort him; but the spite and bitterness slapped it in the face, pushing its hand away, and raised its ugly head at him. How, I find myself thinking fervently. How does me doing such horrid things to him, saying such horrid things to a man who is down on his knees begging for forgiveness, make me any better than who he is?

I kept telling myself never to stoop to his level. I never thought of cheating on him. I never thought of ruining his reputation publicly by announcing his deeds on Facebook like what a friend had said the friend would have done to the partner. But the spite, it badly wants to hurt and to strike, to strike at a man in a defenseless position. What has this turned me into? What has this horrid truth turned me into?