The Quiet Exhale of Realizing I Have Finally Ceased Fire in an Ancient War

Dear Delyara, I’ve carried my resentment toward my brother like a piece of jagged green glass in my palm for four long years, constantly gripping it tightly to remind myself of how deeply I was wronged. But tonight, I pulled up the old text exchange that usually sends my blood pressure through the roof, and I felt... nothing. No fire, no knot in my stomach, no rehearsed speeches about how he ruined my life. Just a profound, cool emptiness. I deleted the thread. I don't need an apology from him anymore to validate my pain, and I don't need him to understand what he did. Forgiving him wasn't an act of kindness toward him; it was an act of survival for me. I finally opened my fist and let the glass drop.