My memories of you are harsh. Always yelling and being upset. You were the bad guy in my story, regardless of what the issue was. My bias was due to the manipulation and programming of years and years of resentment. I didn’t see, hear or feel you. I didn’t care, sympathize with, or respect you. I have one memory of you hitting me. The thing with memories is that they get recorded at the time they happened, without care of retrospect. Meaning, that I remember the images and sounds, and feelings, within the context in which they happened, not of what I understand now. When I remember you, it is not you of today, therefore the memory seems invalid, as if it didn’t happen like that. I cannot change how it was recorded, feelings and all.

It wasn’t until the incident that changed my life, that I realized that you were always there for me, caring and helping from afar. Your kindness was overshadowed by other feelings and manipulation. We didn’t bond in the beginning because I didn’t know you. I never got a chance to know you, but when I opened up, we became friends because I could understand you. I saw you for who you really are.

You were young, forced into a situation where you didn’t know that you wanted to be in. Forced by bullshit rules, customs, and traditions. You tried to make your life work with flawed frameworks and methods that you mimicked from your childhood. It was not your fault, but you tried to fix it. In the end, there was no fix. But all was not lost, because it gave us the opportunity to bond and become closer than ever. You left all childish feelings aside and focused on giving me the guidance and advice I needed. You grew up. You were my age when this happened. You were not there because you didn’t know you had to, but you were there when I needed you. For your misguided, stupid, and childish actions, that you have paid for and learned from, I learned and learned.

I forgive you.