MisTakE

What do you call it when you make the wrong choice? Clear headed, low pressure, reasonably informed and still choose incorrectly. You’ve made the inefficient choice or the unethical one. The one that hurts. The one where when you retell it is so painfully obvious you want to cushion it with some kind of detail.

It’s a mistake, no?

If you wouldn’t do it again, it’s a bad choice. It’s an indictment of character. A twisted song of your soul that we all dance to. We know who you are, who you really are. You’ve spent to long masquerading. Your costume is fallen, your intoxication worn off, our eyes See.

We’re disgusted. You are disgusting. Look at us, feel our bile rising in your throat. Our disgust infects you. You’re a degenerate. We, the pristine, know your crime now. Your time as Us is done. Your time as Us was NEVER meant to be. Because you knew better. You’re smart, clear of mind. You’re infallible.

This “mistake” is who you are. Laid bare. You’re not the series of decisions you regularly make. The thoughts that have guided you. You’re the wound in our body. You’re festering. Make no attempt to heal my dear, we’re done with the limb of you. The Organism of Us has spoken.

Now listen to me. The organism has a malleable memory. They forget their own wounds especially when the scars are small. You are not a wound, you have been wounded. You’ve made your choice yes but you hated it. You have learned. You are Learning. Process. Do not forget the taste of their bile. Use it to digest their loathing. Use it to make a meal of their judgment. You are better now. I hear your apology, I see your change. Let me feel it now.

I house forgiveness for you. This body is a cathedral. It does not forget. It always forgives. It is the virtue of angels that they are perfect, unchanging. You are no angel. We are wingless. It is the virtue of humanity that we are dynamic, ever changing. Always better with time. We build wings.

Take flight.

I forgive you, today. Be kind. You know better now.