God forgive me
*Just a disclosure statement. I am mad. Probably as mad as I’ve ever been. And I need to process it. And this is my canvas. So please pardon me. I have to get it out.*
My soul feels black today. Black and blistered like a too-hot road on a humid summer day. One that cakes my bare feet with gravel and tar. Only I feel like my feet will never come clean.
I hate him. Please don’t tell me I shouldn’t hate. I know that. But I can’t muster up any other emotion. I don’t strongly dislike him. I’m not angry at him. I truly hate him. God forgive me.
When I hear things about him, about the things he does to people I love, I feel a hot black bile in my stomach. I don’t say the words I’m thinking. They’re too terrible to voice. I don’t say that I wish he had died instead. But I think it. And I pray that those thoughts don’t make me as bad as him. That my soul can survive my acidic thoughts. God forgive me.
If he was here, standing in front of me, I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t scream. I would just slap him. Not a punch. I want to feel his fleshy face against my palm. To hear the thwap. To see the imprint of me against him. God forgive me.
I want him to know how much he’s hurt people. His own family. I want everyone in his circle of friends to know what kind of person he is. I want his church, dear God his church, to see the monster he is. I want him to be alone, wallowing in a life of his own creation. God forgive me.
I never want to see him. Yet I do. I want to see him miserable and lonely and paying for his sins.
God forgive me.