Pinky Promises

Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
~William Shakespeare

An ounce of performance is worth pounds of promises.
~Mae West

There are certain promises you make that are more sacred than anything that happens in a court of law, I don’t care how many Bibles you put your hand on.
~Paul Castellano

Brute. Benedict Arnold. Judas. Mata Hari. Yes they all had something in common. Not the betrayal. Not the lying. Not the breaking of trust. No. They all had another thing in common. The cold harsh reality of the debris left by their actions. They left a unique mark on the people in their lives. They left behind emotional victims with invisible scars.

The first time someone betrays you, you’re stunned and hurt and shocked. As a child, you automatically take the blame onto yourself without reason. As you age, you begin to analyze the situation but still wonder what you did wrong. It’s hard not to look inward and take the guilt. It’s hard to believe someone could do something so heinous, so unprovoked. It’s hard to swallow the loss of blind faith in that invisible promise a friendship extends. And no matter how many times you experience it in your lifetime, it sucks just as much (if not more) each time.

But, you choose whether or not to be a victim of it.

I’ve learned quite a few things so far during my stint on this mortal coil. I’ve learned how to make amazing homemade soup. I’ve learned that patience is more difficult for me than acceptance. I’ve learned to treasure the sunset and ignore the clouds. I’ve learned that friends are chosen and family is given, most of the time. I’ve learned that scars aren’t always cool, but do always come with a lesson. I’ve learned that I don’t always fall gracefully, but I always get back up. And I’ve learned not to be a victim.

I admit, I don’t do well with victims. I have a hard time understanding the mentality of holding onto something and letting it affect you forever. I learned at a very young age to take what you can from a bad thing and move forward. Forgive yourself. Forgive whomever hurt you. And move on.

But I’ve also learned that while I refuse to be a victim and seem to be able to forgive—wholeheartedly and often more than I should—forgetting is a whole different matter. I’ve learned that a broken heart can be mended, but a tear in your soul leaves a permanent mark. I’ve learned that trust can be given blindly, but sometimes needs to be earned anew. I’ve learned to hide the bodies when I kill angels, and feed the demons I’ve created to keep them calm. And I’ve learned that monsters don’t live in the dark, and shadows are caused by light rather than the lack of it.

 

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