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Struggling With Forgiveness

One Day at a Time

By Halie MariePublished 6 years ago 5 min read
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I met him in the seventh grade. He was in the the eighth grade. My soul mate. Now, almost 12 years later, we're still together with a son and we're pregnant. We had our son young. Just like any other parents, we wanted the best for our family and to build an amazing life for our child. (The love of my life, we'll call D.) We had an incredible opportunity presented right before us and we couldn't say no. You see, D's mom, we'll call her M, had recently moved down to Tennessee and she offered for us to come stay with her and her boyfriend and start fresh. We had gone down to visit and the view from the back porch was to die for. I would wake up in the morning and sit on the back porch, drink my morning coffee, smoke my morning cigarette, and just take it all in. So beautiful. Peaceful. Although it was extremely hard to leave all of my family here in Ohio, I knew if we didn't at least try, we would regret it and constantly wonder what if.

October 15, 2016: it's early morning and we are loading up the trailer and I'm saying goodbye to the only thing I have ever known. It was hard but I knew it was best. Not long after we move down, D's brother Z moves down. We were having a blast! Trails for miles. Fresh air. I felt so free.

We began our new lives. D got a job in a chicken factory. Our son, we'll call him C, was playing tee ball. I was going back to school to be a pharmacy tech. Things were so good. Til they weren't.

April 9, 2017: I had not been feeling good, and mind you, I just had surgery to determine if I had Endometriosis, which I do. I wasn't even two weeks post-op. Our son had been sick the previous days with an upset stomach. I stayed in bed most of the day. D started to not feel so good. M's boyfriend, B, made a nasty comment implying we are lazy and haven't done anything. Listen guys, I'm OCD. I clean CONSTANTLY. I'm a professional cleaner for, fuck sakes.

Long story short, shit blew the fuck up! Before I know it, everyone is screaming. Now, M had surgery a week before my surgery on her shoulder. I was trying my best to take care of her. D wanted to have a family fun day and I told him we needed to stay home because his mother's blood pressure bottomed out and she nearly passed out on us. I wanted to make sure she was okay. I do have some medical background. After I had my surgery, they yelled a me to relax, to sit down because I just had surgery. If something needs to be done, I HAVE to do it. See, they were telling me I never did anything around the house, and let me tell you, that got me fuming. But as if that wasn't enough, M started to yell that I'm a nothing, a no one, and that we need to move back to Ohio.

We began to pack. Our son was bawling because he didn't want to leave his grandma. He didn't want to go back to Ohio. They heard him because they had the TV off so they could hear us! We lived in the mountains. We had no cell phone reception, so the only way I could talk to my family was through wi-fi. Guess what... THEY TURNED THE WI-FI OFF!! And of course, they had the home phone.

We had a Chevy Sonic. Not very big. We had to fit what we could in the car. We didn't care about us, we just wanted to make sure our 5 year old son had everything he needed. I've never seen D the way he was that day. You could literally see the pain his heart felt. We had $30 bucks to our name and 4 bad tires. How were we supposed to make it all the way back to Ohio!? We drove to the closest town with a hotel and I called my papa. I am truly blessed to have this man in my life. When we finally got into a town where I had service, I called him. He called and got us a hotel room so we could sleep and leave in the morning. Mind you, by the time we got to the hotel, it was about 9:30 PM. The next morning we were able to go get four new tires, gas, and food for the way back to Ohio, all thanks to my papa.

I had never been so scared in my life. What were we going to do? At this point I'm numb. Thankfully D was able to go back to his job he left here in Ohio. We stayed with my mom for a little bit and then stayed with our friends, whom I still can't thank enough. Life sucked, but I sure as hell wasn't going to give up. D refused to give up. On June 2, 2017 we were able to put a down payment on a trailer and we moved in that day! We finally have a place to call our own. In under two months we went from homeless to home owners. If you really want something in life, only you can make it happen. It can't rain forever, so in the meantime, get your umbrella and push through the storm. It will be okay eventually.

Recently, M has expressed how sorry she was for the chain of events that took place that day. She admitted her wrongs so it should be easy for me to accept her apology, right? But I can't. I'm not ready. See, she knew I had a very hard time trusting people because of my past. She finally made me feel comfortable and I started to open up. I told her things that happened to me as a child. I trusted her! I told her things I've never told anyone. I can handle what she said to me. I can forgive her for her words. I cannot forgive how she made me trust her and then tore me down like I was literally nothing. I can't forgive the way she made her own son feel. I can't forget my son's begging and crying.

I have grown so much in the last year and I continue to grow everyday. I have conquered so much already, I know I can do this too. I just never knew how much more difficult this mental and emotional challenge would be compared to the actual physical challenge of trying to find a home. I'm working on it. I'm trying because I know my anger isn't affecting her one bit. She made peace with herself when she apologized. The ball's in my court and I know what I need to do. I know forgiving will make me feel better because the hatred is eating me alive, but why is it so hard for me to actually do?

humanity
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About the Creator

Halie Marie

I'm human. I'm a mom and wife. My stories have molded me into who I am today. Writing gives me my outlet I can't express verbally.

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