Stop knocking
I have no room for you.
Not anymore.

I once brought down walls
I sledgehammered them myself
just to make room for you,
for your mere comfort.

I opened a door and left it ajar:
the wind, the rain and the cold came in.
You did not.

So stop knocking at my door
now that the walls are thick,
now that inside is warm,
now that I don't feel lonely.

I once waited for you,
I welcomed you in
and you did not come.

Stop knocking at my door.
You have a place of your own
and your shoes are dirty.

Walk away, stranger.

When you grow up Catholic, you can almost be sure that you're going to be a little fucked up somehow. You will feel guilty about natural things and it will be hard for you to see how ridiculous your shame is.

I did grow up Catholic and my views on forgiveness have fucked me up badly. I feel constant dread about forgiving, because I compare forgiving to forgetting and I feel like they should be related.

The thing is, forgetting isn't good.

People forget things when they aren't important, when they're distracted or when they're sick. Alzheimer's and dementia aren't an ok thing to have, they're something to be worried about.

So I grew up with this idea that if someone apologized I should forget that they hurt me and move on, acting like we'd always been great.

This doesn't happen to me.

I remember EVERYTHING. I love to pretend that I don't, but I sure do and it makes me feel terribly guilty that I cannot erase the bad memories from my mind. I feel like I'm betraying the one who asked for forgiveness and that I'm the bad guy.

I want to be able to embrace my memories as something real that happened and move on from there. Forgiving should mean that both parties are aware of the mistake and willing to change what caused it in the first place, not just expecting the hurt that they forget and move on.

I'm raising my kids as far away from church as I can.