Freedom

I sat in the wooden rocking chair in my living room, looking out the window at the rustling orange and gold leaves. I thought about the day's events quietly to myself as the wind blew outside. I imagined it flowing through my hair, separating each strand, giving life to it's dead state. I combed my fingers through it as it draped down over my shoulders providing warmth to my neck.

He said he was sorry.

And this whole time, I've been sorry too. But I realize that it was all a crazy misunderstanding. We were both confused and never meant to hurt each other. But I let my insecurities blind me and I was broken by the simple things. I think we are both feeling a lot better now, but I know there is no going back to the way things were before. You can break something and glue the pieces back together, but it will always have a few cracks in it.

Though it does feel nice to know that I'm not hated, judged, but... forgiven. Oh, the feeling of being rid of your mistakes. It's priceless. It's a rush that tingles through you, cleansing you of all you regreted. It's almost like the wind blowing through your hair giving it life again, giving it freedom.