Forgiveness, that elusive quality, is so not like forgetfulness.
To truly forgive would mean being able to face the truth of what has been done to you and accept it for the rightest thing that could have happened and move on.
Barring that of course, for us less worthy mortals, there is forgetfulness which is a form of escapism. It’s where one can pretend that the person one hasn’t forgiven has been slain and buried. And they are a whole new person with a future one looks forward to knowing. The past and it’s memories must die for the present and it’s future to be born.
And for the really unforgettable wounds, there’s that shiny, hard coat on one’s emotions. First we call it glazing, with eyes turning glassy-hard, then words coagulating into artificial sugar-hard sweetness and finally the heart freezing into diamond-hard indifference.
The shining is all for you, dear love, dear friend. In honour of relationships so deep that every emotion, even betrayal must be honoured, even if only by quenchless pain.