Treason.
It happens when one is “stabbed in the back” but there is no knife. The phrase accounts for the surprise, it is unexpected, the knife - the dagger - is held by a friend. It accounts for the pain too. A friend has the power to hurt.
I am done with metaphors and with the psychological analysis of the others’ and of my own behavior. I’ve never found the key to negotiations. I like to reason and I believe in dialogue but end up silencing my rage. When does the time come to speak without fearing for the other’s feelings, sanity or for his or her threats? And at what point does one give up, accepts, and by accepting creates the rules for the next act of treason that will come? Do I always forgive you just because we never said it was necessary to forgive? Do I shut you off even if I do see you are weak, and probably cynically innocent, weak, a coward, incapable of true love but filled with good intentions that I love to hear? I am so tired of your good-natured cynism. I do love you with all my heart, and I believe you love me too - just not enough to affect your meaningless life in any way. Let others choose, my friend, that is your motto.
I have my share of guilt.
Let’s not let that stop the battle this time, my friend, you are a traitor, you are the traitor in every war.
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