So how are you now?
That was a question no one dared to ask, or a question no one cared enough to ask. Yes, I've changed over the break and this blog has been one of the witnesses of my epiphany.
However, there was no rule stated in any book that an epiphany could not succeed another, and as I came back to school, one did, but it was different because it grew in the form of a poison tree.
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I waterd it in fears
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole,
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
- "A Poison Tree" by William Blake
And I'm still being eaten up by it. The flames of anger and questions are spreading all over my system, eating up the hope and love that I once held on to. I lived a day or two of repentance, promising a plausible solution to what I'm feeling, but somehow, when I'm reminded of her and what she's done (and what she did not do), I find myself still absorbed by the pain, looking for distractions to keep me away from it for a while. But all those promises and distractions don't last. They all crumble down when I'm faced with the reality that I'm crippled and jaded and all she is is happy and free.
But I can't set the prisoner free no matter what I do, because even if I try to face this like a mature person, the child who was hurt and betrayed still comes back every once in a while. I tried asking God to help me learn how to forgive, and even if I convinced myself that I'm ready, life just has its ways of telling you that the things you say to yourself can't really be considered true unless you act upon them, and I can't. I can't love unconditionally because I'm not ready to yet.  I'm still holding on to the grudge because I want to be proven wrong. That may sound very ironic, but it's true. I can't just go on and forgive and accept that what I thought of her is right all along, because I can't just give up the ideal that I've upheld her with in the past months. I'm not willing to forgive yet because I don't want to acknowledge that what I thought that she has hurt me with is true. I do blame her and I know that it is her fault, but I know that forgiveness will come after understanding. And I'm praying and striving to achieve the latter before I suddenly come up with a decision to confront her about it. She won't like it, I know, and neither will I, so it may be better for me to get everything cleared out before I finally come up with something. But I'm hurt, angered, and broken by what she has been to me. I want to be proven wrong, but a part of me wants to guarantee that for once, I was right with what I thought of her because I was hurt too deeply to heal the wounds myself and to bring back what she was to me before.  One of the greatest lessons that I've learned over the break is to be patient with myself and to know that whatever change that I wish to see in myself should undergo a process, and I'm really trying, with this one, to understand that I will be ready one day, with God's help, I will. It may not be now, but it will come when the pain's gone and I'm ready to receive His grace. I'm struggling to find meaning and the goodness in this situation; and to emerge as a stronger and more mature person once I finally get through the tunnel of darkness and find what I was groping for in the dark. This poison tree will die and forgiveness will someday conquer my injured heart. God's grace is enough to empower the weak to forgive. Your Will be done, Lord. 
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