excerpt from my journal:
A quiet joy. Even if it wavers or doesn't remain for long, at least I've experienced it once- this true happiness. Oddly enough, can you believe this, the ice has melted a, the first, layer.
I am afraid I will forget, that contrary to intuition, the torturous circle of self-guilt, perpetual sorrowed repentance has not been broken. No. Just kidding!
I want to tell you everything, gush about my calm exultation and conclude that it is real and patient. Somehow this urge to declare aloud feels hypocritical and false, too much passion (in theory) holds higher stakes in being erroneous, in overwhelming judgment. But, at the same time, with the one truth that I do know, the inevitable disappointments and ever-present opportunity (time and space) for forgiveness in human relationships, I will tell you with full awareness of its temporality.
Dante says in Il Convito
Love is not born suddenly, nor grows great nor comes to perfection in haste, but desires time and food for thought, especially there where there are antagonistic thoughts which impede it, there must needs be, before this new love could be perfect, a great battle between the thought of its food and of that which was antagonistic to it. For the one was succoured on one side continually by the ever-present vision, and on the other on the opposite side by the memory of the
past. And the help of the ever present sight increased each day, which memory could not do, in opposing that which to a certain degree prevented me from turning the face towards the past. Wherefore it seemed to me so wonderful, and also so hard to endure, that I could not support it, and with a loud cry (to excuse myself from the struggle, in which it seemed to me that I had failed in courage) I lifted up my voice towards that part whence came the victory of the new thought, which was full of virtuous power, and I began to say: "You! Who the third Heaven move, intent of thought."
I say that it is worse for any one to blame than to praise himself, although neither may have to be done. The reason is, that anything which is essentially wrong is worse than that which is wrong through accident. For a man openly to bring contempt on himself is essentially wrong to his friend, because a man owes it to take account of his fault secretly, and no one is more friendly to himself than the man himself. In the chamber of his thoughts, therefore, he should reprove himself and weep over his faults, and not before the world. Again, a man is but seldom blamed when he has not the power or the knowledge requisite to guide himself aright: but he is always blamed when weak of will, because our good or evil dispositions are measured by the strength of will. Wherefore he who blames himself proves that he knows his fault, while he reveals his want of goodness...