Someone once told me, the worst part about betrayals is – it comes from people you love most, trust most. But this morning I woke up feeling betrayed from a person I hardly knew. Someone who was around for only so long. Then why do I feel the way I feel this morning?
It is very odd because I don’t know how to overcome this feeling. I spent a good three quarters of an hour swaddling in the blanket, beating my brain to ward off that feeling. I wondered about books that have left me happier. I yearned for Alfey’s sloppy kisses that uplifted my mood. I reminisced about places that instilled a sense of poignant freedom. And yet, at the end of those blissful moments, that feeling was back. A feeling which cast a shadow over my heart. A feeling accompanying an emptiness. An emptiness chased by a known longing. A longing of peace from a betrayal of sorts.
I perform a zillion permutations and combinations to come up with reasons that could pacify my agitated mood. Why do I have feel this way – is the one question I am trying to answer here. How does one define if it really is betrayal? Is time a factor? In the sense that, whether you’ve been with someone for long or really short span of time? Do the expectations make a difference? Why should I be feeling this way if the relationship you had with them was say, just professional?
But then I heard my heart question me – is it not betrayal even if it comes from people who mean significantly very little to you? Is it not betrayal even if what you had, was perhaps, transient, and remained evasive to you? Is it not betrayal if one chooses their own welfare and walks out on you? Most importantly, is it not betrayal if one pretended to be something they never were?
As you see, I am still pondering as I write this. I have no answer. A part of me denies saying that I am attaching unwanted importance to those who never really were a part of my life. But a part of me does believe it to be a betrayal of sorts.
What do you think?