Some memories return in waves, and when they do, I return to the same prayer: “Father, I forgive them.”

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^{Based on a diary entry from 2022:
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Forgive them again

It replays when the wave comes back.

I asked her,

“Was he by your house?”

.…"By my house? …Nooo”

Translation: they were together, just not by her house.

That type of response became the pattern in an entanglement where nothing was ever fully clear. The truth was told narrowly enough to keep the full truth hidden.

I was searching for clarity, but every omission kept me in the fog a little longer, chipping away at my intuition. I felt like I couldn't trust myself.

After some time passed, while I was away for school, I saw a photo that finally began lifting the veil.

The photograph was taken on a familiar bed, put on the WhatsApp profile for a moment, and I immediately felt a shift in my spirit.

Finally!!!!
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It finally kickstarted my journey of detachment. I am thankful for truth that stings. But before that, the truth was already sitting in messages across apps like Viber and hidden contact numbers. I had read enough to know, but yet I still couldn’t see. That's how I know my blindness was spiritual. I was also avoiding what my heart wasn’t ready to face. There were coded conversations and jokes that weren’t entirely jokes, including plans to prank me while I was already struggling mentally.

The subliminal messages on social media felt like a sick little game, and the enemy had a field day with the confusion. On one end, there was bonding between similarities and interests. On the other, I was being humiliated in various private conversations and called insecure and a copycat. The coincidences really were uncanny, though.

When it was all said, done, and dusted, it became so difficult to grieve a friendship while simultaneously wondering how much of a friendship was ever actually there.

...It took me seven years to process. The number of completion [7]. Thank God my prefrontal cortex finally developed lol, and thank God for His humbling truth of myself and others. But time has also made the story less convenient for me. I can see my own part in it.

Because yes, I was insecure and confused... and also wanted to be cool with everyone, even if they were harming me emotionally. I also mastered the language of half-truths and played into the game, too. And when I was discarded, I went down a rabbit hole that I wrote about > here <🔗. I take accountability for my side of the story.
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When the waves try to pull me back into the depression I escaped, I’m careful not to punish myself with thoughts like:

“Maybe I was the problem.”
“Maybe I deserved it.”

Because God has never seemed interested in letting me build a courtroom there. I repent without condemning myself.

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The truth is: we were wounded people with one common thread weaving confusion through more than one heart. So I forgive for what was hidden from me. I forgive the ways our survival instincts played out collectively. I forgive the mastermind behind the web we got caught in. I forgive myself for wanting clarity so badly that I sought understanding more than I sought God. And I forgive us all for the ways we allowed the enemy to gain a foothold.

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I release it all to God.

He reminds me:

You have understood enough.

Forgive them again.
Forgive yourself again.
And release the need to understand the rest.
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Thank You, Lord, for the peace to release my need for clarity.

“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.”  1 Corinthians 14:33

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^{Side note: When you've silenced yourself, telling the truth becomes part of the healing process. The light reveals what was hidden anyway, so it's better to bring it before God than to be crushed by it later. Heal in private and out loud. Forgive and release with and through God.}