To Forgive is Divine

What is the power of forgiveness?

   

         The unopened envelope lay tossed on the gleaming red Formica kitchen table. Candlelight softened the forceful pen strokes etched into the paper's surface. I  knew who sent it. Laughing, bold and  beautiful ... he was all of that, but he was also rash and hurtful and more often then not,  just plain cruel. My inner being still stung from his torments. Rarely if ever did he considered the feelings of others. Forever immersed in a hostile cacoethes of contradicting truths, he was a slave to his whims and trust me, they were a-plenty.

             Each letter slashed into the fine texture of the expensive envelope reflected the unique and visible power of the man. Tall and muscular, his jet black hair shone with vitality. Dark green eyes stared out of the face of a porcelain Adonis. However, the not so visible side of his nature told the real story. I often marveled at the images he'd paint. Each deft stroke of his brush revealed his unusual and unbridled passion. Now, merely reading my name and address penned by his hand made my knees grow weak. Each curve and slope of letter reminded me of his lovemaking. "I was such an idiot!"     I shriek  to the empty room and listen to my regret echoing back accusingly.

              Yes, I was young and foolish back then, but not for long. You see, something happened, and in that one single moment I was forever changed. Of course he was the key. I have discovered that balance rarely hangs on quiet dog day afternoons. Rather,  it tosses and turns on the restless winds of life,  forever teetering on the brink of calamity. As human beings we are so very fragile; the masses so very naive. But alas, no longer am I.

             I will remember that stunning moment of absolute truth for all eternity but I can never, ever, re-live it. Its absoluteness sucked every last ounce of innocence from my body, from my mind and from my soul. I became hollowed,... jaded.  Soulless, I  try to live quietly now... I try to blend in ... to forget what I am. He haunts me, taunts me, says he loves me and what I have become. He tells me he wants to be with me, to hunt with me and feed in united passion! I'll not open the letter.I never did. I'll just pack up and leave like I have thousand times before. There will always be another place needing another nurse. Another supervisor delighted with one who will only work the night shift. Even though I only take the dying and the terminally ill, I despise my thirst. "He seeks me for the hunt," I say out loud, shuddering with the memory, and for my rage. It was once so mighty and my despair so great. It delighted him to see me so debased.

             Yes, I erred, I think for the millionth time, but I was only human. At time the idea was intoxicating. To be young, beautiful and powerful ...forever! What seemed so right then became my liege. Yes I hate him, I think, as I pack a few items. I hate  him with every fiber of my un-dead flesh ...yet I have also forgiven him ... was I then not divine?