Tag: betrayal
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I’m sitting here, staring at my keyboard, desperately wanting to write something that would bring some semblance of solace or calm to my existence right now, but nothing. Complete and utter nothingness. That’s how empty and insignificant life appears to be right now.
Not even a deep sigh provides any relief. The bitter taste of betrayal lingers for so long when dished out in cold healthy servings by one most loved. I’ve got so many questions that will never be answered. Important questions. Questions which if answered, may hold some promise of peace or at least relief from the angst of not knowing. But not even this small mercy is offered. Is this the price to be paid for believing in someone? For assuming the best of them and looking past their failures and accepting them for all the beauty they hold inside but are too afraid to show the world from fear of ridicule or rejection? Can someone really be so calculated and cruel by nature, or is it fear, paralysing fear that brings out the worst cowards in us?
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Hypocrisy Perfected
They say that the fear of ridicule breeds the most repugnant of cowards. So then the most repugnant of cowards must surely breed the most despicable of hypocrites. And hypocrites by definition cannot be happy or fulfilled people. There’s a fine line between being selfish enough to sustain our own soul’s desires, and sacrificing enough to selflessly contribute to the life experiences of others. Being human lies somewhere between being a narcissist and a martyr. And hypocrisy has no part to play at all.
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Integrity is Dead
Betrayal never is an easy pill to swallow, no matter how jaded I might be. The worst of it is when I find myself compelled to question every moment of sincerity that I expended in affection, admiration and respect towards those that I held in such high esteem. People, including me, often suggest that no matter the outcome, the good memories of what has been can never be taken away. I know now that that is absolute rubbish!
Betrayal sours good memories. But worse than that, it creates doubts where there should be none, where we can’t afford to have any. Not only does it raise questions about the inherent integrity of the betrayer, but it also calls to question every instinctive judgement call I ever made. How can I trust myself to see good in others if time after time I have been proven wrong about my assumptions through the simply callous act of betrayal? How am I supposed to believe in others, see the good in them and give them the benefit of the doubt if every single time it appears that I completely missed their deceptive manipulations?
Being trusting is so easily, and seemingly justifiably misconstrued as being naive instead. I can’t live suspiciously while maintaining a facade of sincerity. At least I choose not to. And so it seems that if I persist in staying true to myself, I risk growing old alone and isolated, with my nearest and dearest only appreciating the veneer of me, whilst being totally oblivious to the emptiness that echoes inside, waiting desperately for the arrival of one that I can embrace completely. Perhaps that shows in some subliminal way which is what scares them off due to the overwhelming expectation of true commitment and trust.
But I can’t accept that I am alone in this want, in this desire to have a true companion. Surely every human being has a need to be understood, accepted and appreciated? If this be true, then why do others not seem to want it as much as I do? Are we all victims of our own betrayals? Too many questions, not enough answers, and certainly a scarcity of sincerity to make any responses even plausibly trustworthy.
Like I said before, integrity is dead. Self-preservation killed it.
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Integrity is Dead
Betrayal never is an easy pill to swallow, no matter how jaded I might be. The worst of it is when I find myself compelled to question every moment of sincerity that I expended in affection, admiration and respect towards those that I held in such high esteem. People, including me, often suggest that no matter the outcome, the good memories of what has been can never be taken away. I know now that that is absolute rubbish!Betrayal sours good memories. But worse than that, it creates doubts where there should be none, where we can’t afford to have any. Not only does it raise questions about the inherent integrity of the betrayer, but it also calls to question every instinctive judgement call I ever made. How can I trust myself to see good in others if time after time I have been proven wrong about my assumptions through the simply callous act of betrayal? How am I supposed to believe in others, see the good in them and give them the benefit of the doubt if every single time it appears that I completely missed their deceptive manipulations?
Being trusting is so easily, and seemingly justifiably misconstrued as being naive instead. I can’t live suspiciously while maintaining a facade of sincerity. At least I choose not to. And so it seems that if I persist in staying true to myself, I risk growing old alone and isolated, with my nearest and dearest only appreciating the veneer of me, whilst being totally oblivious to the emptiness that echoes inside, waiting desperately for the arrival of one that I can embrace completely. Perhaps that shows in some subliminal way which is what scares them off due to the overwhelming expectation of true commitment and trust.
But I can’t accept that I am alone in this want, in this desire to have a true companion. Surely every human being has a need to be understood, accepted and appreciated? If this be true, then why do others not seem to want it as much as I do? Are we all victims of our own betrayals? Too many questions, not enough answers, and certainly a scarcity of sincerity to make any responses even plausibly trustworthy.
Like I said before, integrity is dead. Self-preservation killed it.
They say that the fear of ridicule breeds the most repugnant of cowards. So then the most repugnant of cowards must surely breed the most despicable of hypocrites. And hypocrites by definition cannot be happy or fulfilled people. 