Lokis
I tried to go back and erase history because I thought my past was the problem. I tried to lie my way out of it. I made deals, and I made desperate grasps to climb out of what seemed like a fixed and certain fate.
I met another Loki. Cruel, twisted. He burned Midgard to the ground and sat upon a throne of skulls, as one is wont to do when trying to drive home a point about how evil one can be. Skull throne! I digress. He tried to force me to follow in his footsteps. All Lokis are doomed, he claimed. We all fail in the end, he told me. Oh, he tried as I did. Every last ploy to convince everyone he could be good, but all anyone ever let him be was wicked, wicked Loki.
And he was, believe me. He did every horrendous thing, which language alone could not convey. That didn't mean he wasn't also the Loki who wanted better for himself, or who was capable of better.
He is the one who helped me. He made sure that I met Verity, so that someone would keep me on track. He gave me enough to work with so that when it all came down to the last stand-off, I knew what I had to do.
Choices. It comes down to choices. I forgave him. I forgave myself, really. I took the help I was given and I used it to help in return. No one will tell you when it's time, but, honestly, how long would you like to stagnate where you are?