Ever had someone who meant so much, who was meant to protect you, who you depended on for reassurance, tell you the last thing you needed to hear? Tell you the last thing you thought they would say, no, not even the last, the only thing you thought they would never say.
You feel that moment of shock, the inability to comprehend the monstrosity set before you. Then the pain sets in, the hurt, the realisation that this person you care so deeply for could utter those words that hurt you most, in the full knowledge that they would, of course, shatter your very being in those few silent, painful, confused moments. To despise that important individual for only a short moment, but a moment long enough to question their loyalty, their 'truths'.
And of course, the attempt to retract their comment, to apologise and pretend they had never let word leave their lips, and your struggle to comprehend anything but the 'mistake' they didn't mean to make. Their pathetic attempt to comfort from guilt, and the sickening feeling that builds inside you, like bile rising from your gut forming a solid lump in your throat, as you recoil when they try to take your hand. You flinch as they put their arms around you, and your entire body tenses as they let slip the words 'I'm sorry', which at that very moment mean little more than water down a drain.
These moments tend not to come around very often, but when they do, they leave scars that outlive any reconciliation.