onesecondbeforesunset:
I want to say somewhere: I’ve tried to be forgiving. And yet. There were times in my life, whole years, when anger got the better of me. Ugliness turned me inside out. There was a certain satisfaction in bitterness. I courted it. It was standing outside, and I invited it in. I scowled at the world. And the world scowled back. We were locked in a stare of mutual disgust. I used to let the door slam in people’s faces. I farted where I wanted to fart. I accused cashiers of cheating me out of a penny, while holding the penny in my hand. And then one day I realized I was on my way to being the sort of schmuck who poisons pigeons. People crossed the street to avoid me. I was a human cancer. And to be honest: I wasn’t really angry. Not anymore. I had left my anger somewhere long ago. Put it down on a park bench and walked away. And yet. It had been so long, I didn’t know any other way of being. One day I woke up and said to myself: It’s not too late. The first days were strange. I had to practice smiling in front of the mirror. But it came back to me. It was as if a weight had been lifted. I let go, and something let go of me.
— Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

holding on to anger

is like cradling

a poisonous viper

to your chest

process the hurt

that drove the anger

and release the poison

before it consumes you

accept what hurt you

accept whoever hurt you

they were where they were

you were where you were

there is no changing it

there is only acceptance

so you’re not trapped there, forever

forgiveness is for your freedom

a letting go of a way of being

that came out of being poisoned

by holding on to resentment

until you became

bitter