Unforgiveness Is Like A Virus.
Did you know that unforgiveness can be classified as a disease?
I wasn’t made aware until I came across this TikToker, Olivia Yokubonis, who has been regularly updating her followers about her healing process post-breakup. Once she talked about it, it started to make me wonder if I had truly forgiven others for the demise of our friendship/relationship. The question became this:
Is unforgiveness a viral infection like mono, one that kind of stays in the body forever once contracting it? Or is it like strep throat, where it typically goes away with antibiotics or some time?
I’ve decided that unforgiveness is like a virus. It can sit sedentary until something random might trigger it. This is because I feel like if you’ve ever been truly passionate about someone or a situation, there can always be something that makes you go into a frenzy. Take for instance a few weeks ago. I was sitting on the floor of my new apartment moving things over, and Camber sent me photos from my first karaoke night. These were taken hours before my ex and I had broken up over WhatsApp.
Sidebar: God, I fucking hate that app, still to this day. I was gunning for him to get an international plan for a few months like my old roommate when she studied abroad, but I should’ve known by his willingness to get an Android in the event his iPhone konked out that he wasn’t one for convenience of himself and others (me specifically)—rather he’s a champion of cost efficiency. Econ nerds, am I right?
Anyways, I bawled my eyes out two weeks ago after seeing that. For what specifically, I don’t know. Do I miss his company???? I feel like I’ve more than filled that void. Hell, in these last two-to-three weeks of living by myself, I’ve realized that I kind of love being alone, which is never something I’d thought I’d say. Do you know how relieving it is to not be walking on eggshells worrying that I’m going to disrupt one of my roommates’ sleep at 3 AM? What about the fact that I have an entire fridge to myself? Plus, not to brag, my space is cute as fuck. Coming home to a space you adore makes it a joy to be at home—TRUST.
So, I don’t think I miss his company enough to cry over it.
Was I crying about how that version of myself didn’t know what was to come??? It’s possible to look back on moments before a huge transitional period and feel emotional about it. Yet, I have tons of photos pre-Covid, and I never cried after looking back about how high school Taylor didn’t realize this random pandemic was going to delay her attending the college she felt so secure about for a year.
I don’t think that’s quite it either.
Was it the event itself I was crying about, or how about the weeks I spent devastated about what life without us looked like? I mean I had already been depressed for months prior to us breaking up, but every ounce of hopelessness that I had already felt magnified once we did.
While I would like that last question to be the real reason, there’s no telling. The point I’m trying to make here is that whatever triggered that response, could easily be construed as deep-seated unforgiveness about the situation. Now, there are new questions to be raised:
How do I stop getting disappointed when I can’t send this video or tweet to my old best friend that I think she’d be on the floor laughing at?
or
How do I get over my slight reluctance in going to a specific Neighborhood Walmart so that I don’t run into old roommates?
and
How do I ensure that I won’t start randomly crying over a photo that could remind me of my ex again?
I mean these little moments prove that I’m not over it or that I haven’t done enough to forgive, and the virus is still active. Right?
Questions like these have bothered me for years any time I feel some sort of emotion (that I wouldn’t categorize as positive) about memories of someone. Maybe what I’m about to say is a load of shit to make me feel better, but considering these thoughts aren’t constant, then I believe these little moments just show that at one point I cared. I’d take caring over being apathetic and nonchalant about situations any day.
“Well Taylor, how did these thoughts become less constant?”
Well, I’ve finally developed the gift of hindsight, along with the understanding of coexistence, and I’ve never been more at peace with relationships that have ended in my life.
My old best friend and I had a boundariless friendship that became too much. We crossed lines on both sides, and she realized it was no longer healthy for her. I was beside myself about her decision at the time, but that friendship was one where it weirdly felt like a relationship without the romantic aspect. There were too many things we expected of one another that we shouldn’t have.
I had outgrown and tolerated as much as I could from my old roommates (not my Frisco ladies + Matt—I loved y’all, still do). Their rhetoric and antics had caused me to build up so much resentment toward both of them that I just couldn’t take it. I should’ve excused myself from that living arrangement long before I did, but the hold that convenience and comfort had on me was too great.
My ex and I were never really that compatible. We didn’t share many hobbies or aspirations. Both of us had our own issues that we really needed to work through first in order to really be there in the way the other needed. I think deep down we both knew for a while that it wasn’t working, but love has this power of making you try to deny rationale. Arguably, one of his greatest faults was that he’s allergic to peanut butter, and the man loves food so much that it was an easy thing for me to forget. Jesus, the number of times that I offered him peanut butter or things with it, you would’ve thought I hated him and wanted him to kill over.
Admitting the bad and ugly parts of a relationship (on both sides—yours and the other’s) rather than just focusing on the good was one of my biggest steps toward real peace from a situation. The second was recognizing that at the end of the day, there was something I adored about all of these people at one point in time. All of them taught me things about life and even myself that were integral to the person I am today. It’s just that someone can be great, but still not be the greatest for you to be around or be involved with. Two things can be true at the same time. Understanding your needs, what serves you best, and how certain people’s values align with your own is so extremely important—and it can take a lot of self-reflection to get there.
I’m sure there are a lot of other little steps, but those two mentioned are what have led me to say this: The disease of unforgiveness isn’t actively running through me, and I think as long as I use these tools, it won’t consume me. I’m honestly the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Don’t let those random spouts feel like setbacks in your journey at peace. Instead, it’s the process of healing.
Thank you so much for reading. I apologize for my absence. This summer has been filled with stories that make my friends laugh their asses off, audibly gasp, or both, as well as big changes (ie. MY NEW INSANELY CUTE BACHELORETTE PAD), and lots of miles on my Honda CR-V, Celeste. I’ve been busy, but hopefully, since I’ll have to sit down for school starting soon, I’ll be a little more frequent here.
Be on the lookout for an in-depth analysis of Frank Ocean’s Blonde soon. Perhaps it’ll be posted on its sixth anniversary, but who knows with me?
