Trepidation
When will it end?
The look of betrayal
Will she speak to me? I read so
that she will feel rude if she interrupts.
Her daughter comes in and greets me.
I say hello back, albeit shyly.
She spoke! Why does she insist
on speaking to me? Does she not realize
what she has done? How can she not?
Does she comfort herself with the thought that she may have done the
right thing? I don’t see how she could
possibly see it that way.
How can one do something so wrong, so treacherous and yet act as though
nothing as gone on?
How can one rip out another’s guts, tear them apart, rip them to shreds
even, and then act as though all is normal?
I cannot act as though my guts are not there on the ground between us. I cannot pretend the blood is not dripping
still from the wound that has been inflicted.
I try to cover it over with bandages such as, Hashem will work all
things for the good of those who Trust Him and There is a reason this has been
allowed to go on. The bandages never
hold, though, and any healing that has taken place is from the inside out and
each time she tries to speak as though nothing has gone on the wound opens a
little more, the healing takes a little longer…
They are rehearsing. A small
circle, no way to avoid her. I cannot
even look at her without feeling pity.
Interesting that when I look at her I feel pity, but when I think about
her and what she has done I feel resentment.
Sad that she would treat someone so loyal like this. I would have done anything for her, and had.
When her daughter was living with an abusive boyfriend, who did she
call to come help her move? Who did she
call when her daughter may have had to face him in order to get her
things? Who did she call when her
granddaughter was in the hospital and she could not go? Me. I dropped everything for her and her
family. I skipped classes, left work early
to help them out. Who did she call when
her other daughter needed help moving out of her abusive husband’s house? I gave her daughter furniture that I still
used and needed. I kept her grandsons
when she couldn’t. I cooked dinner and
cleaned and helped unpack and organize this daughter. Not for her, but because it was
necessary. I remember needing things and
help and emotional support. I remember
getting what I needed. I would do it all
again if I had the chance.
How she could treat someone who treated her children so well in this
way I will never know. It feels like the
deepest sense of betrayal. It feels like
I have been used and thrown away. Then
put into a compactor or shredder.
He’s going to walk by. Don’t
make eye contact, maybe he won’t see you there.
Just keep reading, maybe he will see it as rude to interrupt.
Whew, narrow escape.
Oh man. I'm going to have to speak to this one.
He speaks and I can barely hear, not for want of volume, but for lack
of desire. I would rather read fiction
with spiritual roots than listen to one I no longer hold respect for. He speaks
the truth from the WORD, but does not act it out when it would be hard. He follows the easiest path rather than one
that is from scripture or that Yeshua would have followed.
Yes, he obeys Torah, mostly, but when it comes to conflict, he follows
what is easiest rather than fighting using the Word.
When will it end? Hopefully soon. I dislike this feeling. Not knowing who can be trusted. Not knowing what is being said and what people think of me. Only knowing that, for whatever reason, these people who I thought knew me the best seem to have taken one persons word and now see the worst in me. It is a hard thing to face.
Soon. Soon.
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