Press play and the past repeats. With each sideway glance, you see the shadow of an arm raised ready to pound you. The man you love was once an abusive alcoholic. You say you forgive, but you can't seem to forget. You try to turn a mountain of pain into a molehill of peace: Each punch a memory, every memory a monument you worship daily; his repentance never quite big enough to overshadow them. Frustrated, he leaves after years of trying. Now that he's gone the mountain crumbles to a molehill; forget joins forgiveness, and you sleep a lot easier.
