forgive myself for not being perfect

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

I’m not very good with forgiveness. Maybe its because I don’t have a God/dess to chalk everything up to. I don’t believe that a deity overhead is granting me pardons from personal accountability. So, this is tough. If I can’t pass over this speed bump, I won’t be able to continue on my journey. I’m alive and not in jail, why isn’t that good enough for me? Haven’t I paid enough for my body’s crimes against myself? My body got sick and ruined my life. But, my body was able to achieve a remission. Doesn’t that mean my body has done the time and now we both can be free together, both body and spirit? How do I cope with the bitter resentment and angry and grieving for what once was?