Who am I to not forgive you, right?
I could forgive you. I can, if I wanted to.
But that doesn’t mean I can still accept you.
Acceptance is a different thing.
And the damage… the damage has already been done.

You made your choice.
And so did I.
I chose to stand my ground.
To protect myself.
To honor my own truth.

Don’t expect things to go back to the way they were.
Not after everything that happened.
Not after every word, every action, every betrayal.
Time cannot erase it.
Distance cannot fix it.

Don’t forget—it was you who started this.
The first move, the first doubt, the first false accusation.
It was you who set the stage for chaos.
It was you who broke the trust we once had.
And it all came crashing down because of that.

You chose to believe your son.
Without even listening to us.
Without pausing, without asking, without considering.
You took his word as gospel.
Even though we had proof.

I had proof. Solid, irrefutable, clear as daylight.
But he had nothing.
Nothing to prove that I did what he accused me of.
Yet your mind was made up.
Your heart decided already.

My trust is gone.
Gone in pieces.
Shattered like glass underfoot.
And no apology, no explanation, no promise, can put it back together.
Not after this.

You had your doubts.
I had mine.
But ours were never equal.
You acted on his word alone.
You acted without patience. Without reason.

I can forgive you.
Truly. I can.
Because holding onto anger is poison.
Because releasing it frees me.
Because I refuse to carry that weight forever.

But don’t think forgiveness means a second chance.
Don’t think it means I’m waiting for you.
Don’t think it means I will open my door again.
Because I won’t.
Not now. Not ever.

You crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed.
You let bias outweigh truth.
You let emotion blind you to reality.
And I cannot walk back into a world where that is possible.
Not with you.

I can forgive you, but I cannot forget.
I can forgive you, but I cannot trust.
I can forgive you, but I will not return to your orbit.
You may hope for reconciliation.
But hope is a luxury you no longer have with me.

I am done with explaining.
Done with defending.
Done with proving.
You chose your side.
And I chose mine.

We will not go back.
The bridge is burned.
The water beneath it is black.
And there is no crossing back.
Not for us.

So forgive me if I sound harsh.
Forgive me if my words sting.
But they are the truth.
And truth cannot be softened without losing its weight.

I can forgive you, yes.
But do not come back.
Do not think you can walk in as if nothing happened.
Do not imagine I will take you in.
Because I won’t.

I can forgive.
I have.
But acceptance? That is a door I will never reopen.
And trust? That is a treasure you destroyed.
I cannot, I will not, I do not.