On: A Brief Tale of Betrayal

 

I knew immediately she was for me.  It was 1960.  I was almost a teen and quite impressionable. She said all the right things to entice me.  Every move she made seemed perfect.  She told me how much she loved me, and everyone around me.  She didn’t care about my position in our world, only my character and my willingness to help her.  I was a poor boy; she was rich and sophisticated.  But she opened her arms to me anyway.  I was, at first, smitten; then, I fell deeply in love.

When I was 18, after learning she was having trouble with some bad people, people who told lies and tried to hurt her, she asked me to protect and defend her.  I jumped at the chance to win her heart and mind, to keep her safe.  It was not going to be easy, she told me.  She even said I had to choose her over my family.  But she was so beautiful.  I thought her heart so pure.  I could not resist.  My family must come second.

Not long after I left home, she had some dark moments.  She suddenly seemed paranoid and afraid of others.  I was sure she would be fine.  After all, those people had lied to her and tried to hurt her.  It obviously affected her deeply.  If I stand beside her I’m sure she’ll get over it. 

And, support I did.  Year after year.  I worked hard.  Did what I was supposed to do to prove to her my love.  Whether she was good or bad to me, I remained her friend. 

Meanwhile, decades passed.  I kept my optimism and hope alive, knowing one day she will see her way to me…again.  But just the opposite occurred.  She grew colder and more aloof.   She kept turning away, so much so that we were now moving in opposite directions. 

She seemed to enjoy the dark side of life.  She enjoyed the bad boys.   She seemed to care only for position.  She sought the company of only a few, not all.  Former friends saw the same as me.  The beautiful girl I loved was suddenly not interested in me.  I was too poor to be her love or even her friend.

Now, as I’ve reached the winter of my years, she has abandoned me altogether.  Her friends now are as cold as the driven white snow.  It seems her money keeps her warm, but her love is gone.  She rages in seeming paranoia.  Former friends have abandoned her. “Look what they did to me?” she screams to those few who still love her. 

She turns to religion, but it is not the religion of our youth.  Now wealth and fame are all that is important.  The sins we used to avoid are no longer sins, but graces.  The graces we knew as children are now sins.

Why so dark I ask her?  Where did I fail you?  I do not recognize what you’ve become.  I hope your beauty does not completely fade before you remember who you are and return to the light.  But for now, I must leave to protect myself from your rage. 

Goodbye, America!