He Said He Forgave Me... But I Never Told Him the Full Truth

Forgiveness is a strange thing.

People say it like it fixes everything.

Like it wipes the slate clean.

Like it makes the truth irrelevant.

“He said he forgave me,” I tell myself.

And maybe he did.

But he doesn’t know everything.

He forgave the version I gave him — the PG edit, the polished version, the safe confession.

He never heard what actually happened after I turned my phone off that night.

He never heard what I did the next day.

He never heard how far it really went.

He forgave the outline — not the full story.

And maybe that’s on me.

Maybe I’m the one who decided he couldn’t handle the rest.

Or maybe… I knew I couldn’t.

Because if I said it all out loud,

I’d have to face the version of myself I keep locked up.

The one I pretend only shows up in bad dreams or forgotten text threads.

So now I carry the silence.

He’s moved on — or says he has.

I smile when I see him. I nod when he mentions trust.

But part of me knows:

I’ve never really been forgiven.

Because I’ve never really confessed.

Not to him.

Not yet.

But here?

Here, maybe I can say it.

Not to earn forgiveness.

Just to finally feel clean.