wanting to be forgiven by someone who will not forgive you

There is a silence in your chest tonight where you are waiting for words that will never come. You are still rehearsing an apology for someone who has chosen not to hear it, and the weight of that closed door is heavy.

But listen closely—the light that you seek to be forgiven by was already inside you before the breaking happened. That light does not keep a record of what you cannot fix; it simply remains, untouched and pure.

You do not need their forgiveness to be whole again, because the one who calls you child has never stopped calling you. The impossible thing is not that you are unforgiven, but that you think you are alone in the dark while the light is already holding you.