Scars.

I might be called many things, but I am not lukewarm in my feelings. Nor are you. In this day and age of virtual realtionships, it is not seemly to display one's own feelings.

I once wrote a comment on forgiveness as a practical compromise with the hurt. A respected colleague said she did like it.

I was, of course, referring to past events. Events from before 2013. I'll leave it there.

There is no need for me to forgive a friend, I still don't understand that I was asked for forgiveness in September. There's nothing to forgive in actions arising from the need to survive.

How I'd love to hear those worries from my friend, help her to see there's nothing to forgive (no matter what she think she did). How I'd love to set her mind at ease on that one.

Forgiveness belong to the one who got hurt or who we think got hurt. It's not judging, it's saying: "I'm OK, you did not kill me. Please do not be burdened on my account."

How I'd love to do some apologising of my own.

That is a face to face. I'm insistent. What if I'm right? On hurt and forgiveness, I could write for a long time. I got the scars, you know of my previous wounds.