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Betrayal In Middle School

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“I am really sorry, but I had too,” I said “I just can’t believe you would go behind my back like that and tell on me,” She said. “I know you are mad, but you really did need help. I know this isn’t how you wanted it but-” “You didn’t need to tell the school. Now I have to talk to them about stuff that doesn’t even affect them.” “I know. But, someone else needed to know.” In middle school, telling the school on someone was the ultimate sign of betrayal. Yet, I had to make this betrayal to help someone. While her resentment was fierce for a few months, I ultimately made the right decision, and she was eventually able to see that. I had to make the tough choice and cause more pain immediately in order to minimize the final amount …show more content…

When we walked passed each other my smiles went unanswered and so did my eye contact. Texts went unanswered and social situations with each other were avoided. But one day she finally looked me in the eyes and smiled in passing. The small action started to mend the broken bridge between us. As the eye contact and smiles became more comfortable, finally she spoke to me. “I’m sorry I freaked out,” she said while avoiding the newfound eye contact we has just created. “It’s fine. I get it.”
As I matured I was able to see ahead better than I previously was able to. I could see the inevitable larger conflict that would come out of valuing the short term over the long term, and I was able to see the short-term conflict as mendable, and the long term ones as irreparable. The short-term conflict seemed unimportant compared to the long-term conflict that ignoring the problem would cause. I was able to learn to spare pain instead of short-term feelings, which would have been ultimately inconsequential in the …show more content…

I was never able to think of the pain that is caused when you look in the mirror and realize that you have a hair out of place, or something on your shirt all day. I was never able to value the pain of someone not telling me over the pain that being told of these things as soon as possible. I always wanted to find out on my own, even though the second you look in the mirror and see something in your teeth the first thing you think is “why didn’t anyone tell me?”
As I grew older I was able to start to see the love in every one of those statements. Those little acts of love began to be my favorite kind of love, and I began to work them into my vernacular. I realized that these little comments were done because they care about you; if you do not care about someone you have absolutely no concern if they have something in their teeth or if they have a tag on their shirt, you have less of a need to make sure they do not experience that pain.
I was able to see these little comments as personal betterment. I then had the ability to turn these small statements into bigger ones. I no longer just ignored things that were wrong. I saw these actions as ones of

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