It turns out that I am a better human being than I may have thought. Here is a revelation that I found out this past week:
I do not actually wish my rapist dead.
Good to know! Yay, me!
My rapist and I have several mutual friends from back in our high school days. I mentioned in a previous post how this occasionally comes up and my Facebook feed becomes a triggery place for awhile.
This past week, one of our mutual high school friends posted that his good buddy Mark was in the hospital, in the ICU. He did not mention what had happened, but one can infer it was something very serious for him to be in intensive care.
After the initial triggery jitters subsided from seeing his name jump out at me unexpectedly, I started thinking. (Those jitters were very short-lived. Another piece of good healing news.)
My honest reaction was that I hoped he was OK. Not, “Thank God. One less rapist in the world.” But, I hope he gets better.
I think this is good news. I can never forgive him. I have done serious soul searching on that account. But I remember a conversation I had once with Mr. OneWoman on the topic of forgiveness. He asked me if I wished Mark harm, hoped that terrible things would happen to him. I wasn’t positive, but I said I did not think so.
Hubby said that might be forgiveness for me. Hoping that bad things do not befall this man who hurt me so much. It might be as simple as that.
Well, that played out this week. I truly do not hope that he dies.