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Guilt.
He hides it deep under a show of indifference. He pretends that he doesn’t feel the pain of having hurt others…that he’s free from the restraints of a conscience, but it’s only a mask he wears, a way of hiding his true self from the world. He pretends that he has no remorse…that he’s nothing more than an unthinking animal, a killing machine, but he lives every day mourning his mistakes…mourning the pain he’s caused others.
He doesn’t show guilt the way most people do, doesn’t grieve in the way that the rest of us are accustomed to, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel the pain of having done wrong, of having caused pain and suffering in others. He lashes out, gets surly and aggressive…he chases people away because he can’t let them see the truth about him, can’t let them know the depth of his suffering.
By hiding his suffering, he’s effectively ensured that he can’t get the absolution he needs…that he can’t be forgiven for the mistakes in his past. No one sees the guilt behind the show of indifference and so they see no need to forgive him. Why forgive someone who doesn’t feel guilt over their actions?
He’s made mistakes in his past – caused pain, suffering, loss, grief – and he feels the guilt of those transgressions every day of his life, whether it shows or not. None of us are perfect, we all make mistakes, but that doesn’t ease the pain of knowing that you’ve hurt someone, doesn’t ease the self-hatred and guilt that buries you alive when you realize what you’ve done…when you’re forced to see your actions for what they really are, not for what you thought they were at the time.
He’s hurting today, I can feel it, like a deep black hole in my heart, suffocating me…suffocating him. I don’t know what it is he’s remembering, what transgression he’s reliving, but I know that he hasn’t forgiven himself for it, whatever it is. I know the feeling…not being able to let go of the past, constantly tormenting yourself over something you did…over something you can’t change, but our situations are different.
I’m constantly reminded of what I’ve done wrong, reminded that I’m a traitor. I can’t forgive myself because I’m constantly reminded of my transgressions, constantly held responsible for the things I’ve done, but Logan is only holding himself responsible. No one really blames him for anything he’s done; if anything, they expect it. I’m constantly seeking forgiveness for my behavior from others, from the very people who hold me responsible for my past, but Logan has no one to answer to but himself. Only he can forgive himself.
I’ve been keeping my distance, giving him the space he needs…or, rather, the space he thinks he needs, but I can’t take this any more, can’t let him keep isolating himself. He doesn’t need space, he’s just afraid of being hurt. He needs love, not solitude. He needs forgiveness, even if he can’t forgive himself. Quietly moving to sit at his side, I lean against him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I forgive you,” I say softly, twining my fingers with his. I may not have been there, may have no real power to forgive him, but forgiveness isn’t always concrete. Sometimes it’s more abstract. Sometimes you just need to hear the words from someone…anyone. Sometimes you need to have the ball of your own self-forgiveness set into motion by someone else with the strength to do what you can’t.
He starts to protest and then stops, turning to look at me for the first time all day and I swear I can see understanding in his eyes as he nods, silently acknowledging my statement. I may only be a stand-in for all the people who can’t forgive him, but sometimes it’s only the realization that we’re capable of being forgiven that matters.
He needed to hear those words, needed, on some level, to understand that forgiveness was a concept that applied to him. He needs someone to tell him that he’s suffered enough, that it’s alright to put the past behind him…he needs me to be that person, to do what he can’t do for himself. “It’s time to let go, cher.”
TBC