There’s not much in this world that’s more saddening than betrayal. It reveals the worst in humanity and for people of goodness, it causes a state of confusion that can be metaphysical. It’s a mind-boggling concept to grasp as I’ve always lived a more sheltered life, comfortably detached from some of the realities of this often gruesome and horrifying world. It’s so, so, so hard to understand the mechanics of what makes a person who takes the time and effort to develop what appears to be a friendship of goodness with you to all of the sudden turn on you. Had it been a façade all along? Was I fooled? What.
If the person’s initial intentions did not necessarily entail devious manipulation, then when did things change? When did their intentions take a more sinister form? How can they do this? They’ve turned on me even after all the intense bona fide hangout sessions. What the hell happened? How? Why? Ok, what now? How should I react? Maybe I should be slyer in my response as it’ll slowly strip away the power granted to them by my naivety and openness.
It’s a gut-wrenching experience that causes a slew of emotions, but I try to be as stoic as possible. Whenever something like this happens, I am taken back to conversations held in my studio apartment in Denver. More specifically, I recall the many productive talks with my friend Miller about the “ugly truths” in this unfortunate world. We’d talk endlessly about relationship fallouts, introversion, revenge, and what we hoped (and also what we expected) the future to bring.
We hoped for the best, but expected the worst was to come. It frankly feels like it just gets worse- everything occurs on a more advanced and complicated level. For one, deviousness becomes much more difficult to recognize. It’s truly frightening when you contemplate how skillful some people are at manipulation.
It’s time to put into practice all that I’ve preached in the past 6 years (especially the 4 years in Denver). Thankfully, I’ve always preferred solitude, so it won’t be hard keeping a distance from everyone (the bigger the social gathering, the more uncomfortable I get). Maybe the best way to avoid betrayal would be to avoid the vast majority of people all together. It sounds rough, but I really don’t harbor hatred for anyone, and I wish to keep it that way. In contrast to how I maintain distance from those who do me wrong, I cling to people of pure and unabating goodness; they make me feel so free. I’ll never forget my grandmother’s visits to Denver, what lovely times those were! We were so wonderfully careless, just “going with the flow.” No drama whatsoever. Unfortunately, words do not suffice in describing her visits and our friendship.
So far, the best retribution to betrayal has been a lack of reaction from my part, and a complete detachment from the person who inflicted the emotional damage. Contrary to the draconic retributions I’ve often preached, unresponsiveness has been the norm. I passionately hope that I won’t have to rely on Machiavellian tactics in the future, but expect that the worst in people will bring out the worst in me. I can be reactionless for only so long. I hope the rest of my life will be spent in the soul-stirring limitations of a select people- like my grandmother. Never did she try to control me, demean me, infringe on my freedom, or turn on me. We were limited to each other only, and it was magical. It’s analogous to online marketing- your campaign can be much more if you get more specific when targeting demographics, etc. You can learn so much more from only a few people who you’ve verified (whatever that entails) are genuine, rather than expanding your relationships for the sake of social gratification and validation. I have to accept the unknown. Betrayal begets intense reflection, but you don’t have to understand all the whys and hows. You just have to learn something from what you know happened, and move on.