One of the most damaging emotions we can hold onto is anger. Most of the time, we are angry at the right person for the right thing - we often feel (correctly) justified in our anger.

Anger, though, can turn to malignancies, and sometimes, the best answer to unresolved anger - especially when we find it ruling our lives, is to let it go. To learn to forgive (but not forget.)

This month, we are working on our path toward forgiveness.

Remember, forgiveness does not mean we absolve another for their role in hurting us, trying to break us, shaping our lives with their words and deeds.

So, The Band, who do you want to forgive? Who will you never forgive? Who have you forgiven?

I like to say that I chose to forgive you.

I hate what you did to me and I won't ever forget it.

I don't even want to be in a room with you - the thought makes my stomach turn. But I can't let your drama and blame games drag me down.

You probably wouldn't even really remember what it is you did that I carried with me for so long. That's just you.

No regrets, right?

You manipulated and controlled me every day for years. You fucked with my head. You came close to committing suicide while I was sleeping one night, and blamed my actions for it - even though we'd discussed those actions ahead of time.

I lost count of how many times you cheated on me.  I don't ever want anyone to give me flowers again, because flowers from you always meant you'd done something awful the night prior.

You finally dumped me right before I left for work one night.

Looking back, I should have been relieved, but my naïveté put me firmly into the heartbroken category.

But hey, we were still friends, right? That went on for about a year. Until that night.

I was taking medication to help me sleep, so my memories are extremely hazy. That's also how I know you never should have done what you did. My phone bill showed we talked on the phone for quite awhile. I remember no part of the conversation. At some point, you decided to come to my house.

You woke me up by rapping on the window - I assume the medications had kicked in and I'd finally fallen asleep. I let you in. I laid back down in my bed. I think you said you wanted to cuddle or something. I remember you rubbing my arms, my legs... and then you tried to finger me.

I stopped you.

Kicked you out of my house. You wanted to talk; I told you we'd talk the next day and sent you packing. I went to sleep. I woke up later to a few missed calls and the nastiest email I've ever gotten.

You blamed me. You said I should have known you still had sexual feelings for me. You told me not to blame my medication, since "I seemed coherent when I kicked you out." (An assault on my genitals will jolt me from a stupor, go figure.) You told me you thought "we shouldn't talk for awhile."

I think I should have been the one to decide that, given the circumstances, but it was certainly for the best.

That was more than half a decade ago; we haven't spoken since. So... why would I forgive you?

Simple. I am so much happier without you in my life.

I never wonder whether my partner will be making a suicide attempt or screwing someone else while I sleep. Without you dragging me down, I've been able to pursue my professional goals, find someone who genuinely loves me (uses the words AND shows it), and take care of myself without feeling guilty.

My life isn't all rainbows and roses, but I've found so much freedom away from your grip. I won't ever forget, but I like to think I've forgiven you.