James is taken aback by my sudden outburst and how I just throw at him what he shared before. I immediately feel guilty after I say those words, looking away and trying to put myself together. I can't keep snarling because I'm frustrated, angry and heartbroken.
                          
"I think I could," replies James, surprising me. "If I think about it and consider how things have changed, I can forgive them. If I hadn't run into them, I wouldn't have moved away. I wouldn't have come here and met you, Paige. So yes, if I put things in perspective, I can forgive them."
                          
I meet his eyes and his are so intense, determined to get the point across and make me change my mind. But I don't have it in me, even if it means I got a chance to meet him, I can't do the same. If I put things in perspective, I can't forgive them for what they did to me.
                          
"It's not the same," I breathe out, feeling a lump in my throat. "How can you even compare it, James? You're still alive, you still have a chance. They broke me to the point I killed myself in the most horrendous way, bringing my mother with me, killing her in life. I killed myself and broke my family and I've been stuck for fifteen years. Did you forget all that?" He doesn't reply, but his eyes look pitiful now. "How do I forgive the people that pushed me to this point? They drove me to the edge and then pushed me off the cliff, laughing as they did."
                          
"I know it's not the same... but can you even try?" he insists and the fact he is doing it makes me so annoyed I can't even look him in the eyes. 
                          
I stand up and walk away, towards the window, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to calm down. Why do people do that? They advise you as it everything was that easy, as if it just took a few words to fix everything. If it were easy, if one could just do as told, then no one would be in a mess. If I could forgive them by just wanting to, then I wouldn't be stuck. 
                          
If that is even my lesson! I don't bloody know by now.
                          
It's not that I don't want to forgive them, if that's what will get me out of this, then I'll do it. The problem is that I'm not physically capable of such thing. My guts twist at the idea and I just want to scream and break things. I can't let go of this resentment, I lived with it for years and then carried it for even more. I can't just let go of it.
                          
But what happens if that is really the lesson I'm supposed to learn? It makes sense, considering I've only remembered that for fifteen years, that being all I held on to. Then letting it go, learning to forgive and move on, could be what I need to in order to cross over. 
                          
If that is really what I'm supposed to learn, then I'm doomed. I can't do it.
                          
"You don't need to do it overnight," James speaks from behind. I didn't notice he followed me
                          
I heave another deep sigh. "I don't think I can, James. I... it's like this resentment has become all I am and I don't even know what I'll be without it."
                          
"Then you need to find something else to hold on to until you can let go of that, right?" he proposes, standing next to me and grabbing one of the hands I kept at my side. "I'll help you in every way I can."
                          
I look at our hands together and call out for all my feelings for him. These are stronger than the bad and dark ones, or maybe as they are new and unfamiliar they seem stronger, whatever the reason is, they work  at pushing what could hurt James to the back. I feel a bit lighter, more comfortable when I let these feelings take control. I know it's working when James squeezes my heart a bit tighter before tangling our fingers together. That is when I can look up and meet his eyes.
                          
"I'm sorry," I say. "For snapping before. It's just... overwhelming." I sigh because I can't come up with a better description of all what I'm feeling. But he probably gets an idea and he doesn't blame me for being all bitchy first thing in the morning.