Author: Lucas Harrington

Date: April 27, 2025

Someone I truly dislike was recently diagnosed with a serious, possibly fatal illness. And instead of feeling sympathy, the first feeling that hit me was happiness. It’s such a dark, ugly emotion to admit, and I hate that it’s what came so naturally to me.

I keep telling myself that no matter what they did to me — all the hurt, the lies, the ways they made my life miserable — nobody deserves to go through something like this. I know that on a logical, moral level. But when I dig deeper into my real emotions, I find almost no pity for them. Only a cold, grim sense of satisfaction.

At the same time, this whole thing makes me feel disgusting. Like I’m no better than them. I’m carrying around this guilt, pretending to be neutral whenever people talk about it, nodding along when they express sadness, when inside I’m still wrestling with my twisted relief.

I don’t think I’ll ever wish them well. But I also don’t want to keep feeling this bitter. I want to believe I’m bigger than all the anger they caused in me. Maybe time will help. Maybe forgiveness will come someday — but right now, I’m stuck exactly where I am.