Closer to Closure?

I tried calling the woman who hit me today.

Not for revenge. Not out of hatred. I genuinely want to put this whole accident behind me. And to do that, I think we need to talk. I need to talk. I need to listen. I need to lead… in life.

I tried it the cops’ way. It didn’t work.

They told me she was cited. But her name isn’t showing up in the New Mexico case lookup or the Santa Fe Municipal Court portal. It would be in one of those if a citation had actually been issued. So either it wasn’t, or those systems aren’t being updated. My money’s on the former. Maybe they figured I’d just go away if they said the right thing.

They don’t know me very well.

So I took it into my own hands. I called her. She didn’t answer. I left a message. She didn’t call me back.

How did I get her number? The crash report. Public record.

I imagine she’s scared. Nervous. All of it. Nobody wants to face their own mistakes, especially in a world where everything gets filtered through lawyers and liability. And yeah, maybe someone told her not to call me back.

But here’s the thing: It would probably be healing for her to know I lived. Healing for her to know I’m okay. That I took something that nearly killed me and turned it into something meaningful. I wrote a book. I found purpose in it.

And I know it would be healing for me to look her in the eye and understand what this did to her. To know I wasn’t the only one carrying it.

That’s the part people miss. We could actually help each other put this down.

But instead, we live in a world where two people sitting across from each other over coffee, talking through something that changed both their lives, somehow feels out of bounds… while arguing in front of a judge is perfectly acceptable.

I’m not looking for money. I already gave up that road when I took the settlement. I’m not looking for a fight.

I’m looking to close the door. I just want to look her in the eye and say:

I’ve cursed your name. More than once. I blamed you for everything I was going through. But I don’t carry that anymore. Because something good came out of it. Because I’m still here. I forgive you. And I hope, wherever you are, you’ve found a way to forgive yourself too.

That’s all I want.