ANONYMOUS TEXT

[sarcastass]

[Someone, somewhere, seems to be in a bit of a strange mood, as this wall of text suddenly springs up on the communicator]

Everyone holds grudges.

If you claim you have never done it before, I can only assume you're lying. None of you have a choice in the matter, almost all of you, for better or for worse, behave similarly, emotionally, to humans even if you aren't actually a human.

Holding a grudge isn't inherently negative, there's plenty of reasons to keep hating someone long after they've hurt you. It's a defense mechanism built into your psyche, in order to ensure that the damage you suffered doesn't occur again, at least from the party with a grudge against them.

My question is: At what point has a grudge gone on too far? Too long? Is it after you've exacted whatever revenge you had in mind?

Is it after that revenge succeeded? Failed?

Is it after a set amount of years? How would one quantify the exact amount of time it would take, to be reasonably 'over' an offense strong enough to create a grudge? Can that amount even be quantified?

And if it happens, what's the good in it? Does your life even improve in a fashion you'd notice? Does it have any impact on your life whatsoever, now that you've finished hating someone who has at this point, most certainly forgotten you?

What if that grudge is all that has kept you going? What if removing it would be similar to pulling the spine out of a book? What if you're sure you'll break apart without it? Is it still better? Can it be replaced with something 'better' than that grudge?

Something to ponder on, don't feel like you're required to answer.

Comments

[sarcastass]

[The pause here was lengthy. For a time, it might even seem as if the person on the other end, for whatever reason, had decided they no longer wanted to respond.

Finally, finally however, a response begins to show up]

You were both tricked into doing something that you never would have considered, had not someone constructed a lie to cause you to fight.

[An illusion, after all, was really nothing more than a visual lie.]

I'm sorry for your loss.

[He's anon. He can get away with that. Even while on the other side, he's begun to pace, wings awkwardly fluffing and fanning as the discomfort, the understanding, the full empathy for her situation, grew.

He knew this story.]

Telling yourself you didn't know better, no matter how true it is, never does make the pain go away.

[child_of_bhaal]

[She waits. She can't do anything else, but wait. She wants to call to the person, but thinks better of it, more than once. Best to let them take their time without being pressed.

Her patience being rewarded, is only somewhat surprising. But still, she's glad to see the letters appearing again.]

No, it never does. But it doesn't make it any less true. And I find that, some days, it helps to remind myself of that fact. As should you.

I hope you understand, I didn't tell you that to burden you. I just want you to know that I do understand, and I'm sorry for what you've been through. If you ever feel you need to talk, even if it's just like this, I hope you'll contact me.

You don't have to be alone in this, my friend.