As explained in my previous post, I participate in Twitter hashtag games, and bulk those tweets up for Instagram…and sometimes they’re too big. So, instead of deleting them, I decided to post them here.

Original Tweet (the prompt was the word #forgive):

“It was all a stupid misunderstanding, a horrible accident…you have to forgive me, please!” he begged, tears streaming down his face, but his plea fell on deaf ears. The blood on his hands spoke louder than his words ever could.

The too large for Instagram remix:

He stood before me, his words desperate, pleading for forgiveness. But my heart remained hardened, unable to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

The night was dark and stormy and we were driving back from a late-night party, laughing and joking. He was behind the wheel and I rode shotgun. The rain came down in sheets, blurring our vision. And then the entire world changed in a split second.

In the middle of telling a story, he took his hands off the steering wheel and his eyes off the road. Our car skidded on the slick road, spinning out of control, and finally came to a stop when we crashed into a tree, the impact shattering the windshield. I was disoriented, covered in broken glass, and bleeding from cuts and bruises. But that was nothing compared to the horror I saw when I turned to look at him.

He was in shock, blood on his hands, his face white as a sheet. And lying in front of the car was a lifeless body. A pedestrian who won the unlucky lottery of being caught between the car and the tree.

Time stood still. At first, I couldn’t comprehend what had just happened, and as the reality of the situation sank in, although I knew it was an accident, I couldn’t find it in my heart to forgive him.

He begged and pleaded with me, tears streaming down his face, as he tried to explain that it had been a horrible accident, a stupid misunderstanding. But his words fell on deaf ears. The blood on his hands spoke louder than any words ever could.

In the days and weeks that followed, guilt and remorse crushed him. He couldn’t sleep, eat, or find any peace. He tried to make amends, offering to compensate the victim’s family, seeking therapy, and doing everything he could to atone for his mistake. But I still couldn’t bring myself to forgive him.

As time passed, I realized that forgiveness was not something that could be forced or rushed. It was a personal journey, a process that needed time and healing. And while I couldn’t forgive him immediately, I also couldn’t forget the love we had shared, the memories we had made together.

Years went by, and he remained a constant presence in my life. We never rekindled our relationship, but we remained connected in some way, bound by the tragic events of that fateful night. He continued to seek forgiveness, not just from me, but from himself as well.

And then one day, something shifted within me. I found myself thinking about the past with less anger and resentment. I realized that holding onto the pain and anger was not serving me anymore. It was time to let go, not just for his sake, but for my own.

I reached out to him, and we met in person on a night reminiscent of that of the accident. He was hesitant, unsure of what I would say. But as I looked into his eyes, I saw the deep remorse and regret that had haunted him for years. And in that moment, I found it in my heart to forgive him. It wasn’t easy, and the wounds were still there, but forgiveness was a step toward healing.

We parted ways with a sense of closure, knowing that we had both learned valuable lessons from this tragic experience. And as I left the diner, the rain was coming down in sheets, blurring my vision. And then my entire world changed in a split second when I was caught in the headlights of a car spinning out of control.