Knife in the Back
The knife in the back doesn’t always feel like one. Rather, it feels like one through the heart. Entering and then staying still. Sometimes, they leave the knife right there. Often, for so long that you even forget it was there. You forget, and start functioning normally.
Unaware, that it is may actually still be there. You forget the wound move forward in life until… Until that moment or perhaps, those moments when they choose to give it a twist . Slowly. Painfully. And Torturously. Those days, you lie in pain. Hurting. Yet, hoping that somehow, someway, everything will be alright.
That yes, It will once again be alright. One day it will no more.
You’re wrong. You’ll never be alright. At least as long as they are alive and kicking. Or at the very least, near you.
They cannot help it you know. It’s their sick pleasure. Looking at you in pain. It’s a powerful feeling, indeed. This power, it’s seductive. The power to put a person in their very own version of hell. Perhaps they can’t help it. Not everyone is ready for the responsibility that comes with the power.
Perhaps, it’s just too much to hope that they’ll do the favor of taking the knife out. They won’t. It’s indeed useless to expect it of them. This is something that you have to do. You are the one, who has take that knife out. Pull and then throw it away.
And just then, make sure that you push them far enough as well. Far enough that they are NEVER, EVER, close enough to plunge that knife ever again. And you better make a habit of keeping your eyes open and your mind aware because they also happen to have this tendency of creeping close when you least expect it. Because often it’s the hand that helps you that will push you into the ditch.