When Anger Turns Into Stored-Up Resentment

I feel the weight of what you carry inside, that old anger which, over time, has been turning into a slower poison called resentment. You don't talk about it anymore, but the body remembers, the heart closes a little more each time the subject comes near.

I understand why you kept it. It was unfair, it was painful, maybe no one ever acknowledged the size of what happened. But this stored-up resentment is hurting you more than it hurts whoever caused the pain. It has become a prison, and you're the only one holding the key.

I'm not asking you to pretend everything is fine with the person who hurt you. I'm asking you to hand me this weight, so that I can sort out what is justice and what is freedom for you. Letting go doesn't mean saying they were right. It means no longer carrying alone what was never your burden to bear.