I want something magical. Iced water to kill my fire. Maybe the biggest storm to drown out the thunder in my heart. Or sprinkle of pixie dust that can erase someone’s hurtful words.
But sometimes magic is not a snap of finger or a whisper of easy spell. Maybe magic is the slow descent of forgiveness that cools down your anger. Maybe magic is the rough waves that never give you chance to settle and instead force you to survive the pain.
Maybe magic is a long process of learning and maturing. Of understanding and accepting. Maybe it needs more than a second to show its power. More than an hour. More than a day.
Maybe decades will pass and you still don’t forgive. But magic is also about bidding your time.
Maybe it will come around.
Maybe it will not.
Maybe it doesn’t need to.
Sragen, 23 April 2021