The Illusion of Safety

Opening

They say lightning never strikes the same place twice. I banked the shattered remnants of my soul on that lie.

When you survive a trauma that almost takes your life, you desperately want to believe that the universe owes you a season of peace. You tell yourself that your scars have made you smarter. That your pain has purchased your protection.

It was 2023. I had wiped the dirt from my knees, and I was ready to build again. This time, I told myself, things would be different. I was armed with the agonizing lessons of the past.

I launched a new e-commerce business: Shoppedia. It was the rebirth of my old vision, but with a tighter, more guarded structure. I refused to let a crowd into my inner circle again. I partnered with only one person. For the technology, I didn't hire strangers. I brought in a good friend—someone I had known for a very long time who owned his own tech company.

I looked at the structure I had built, and for the first time in years, I took a deep breath. I exhaled. I thought, Finally. I am safe. I will never be abused or betrayed like that again.

But I was about to learn that deceit doesn't always break…

Sometimes, it has a key. And sometimes, it wears the smile of an old friend.

The betrayal that crept into Shoppedia was a lot worse than the first. It was a new, suffocating wave of manipulation.

My partner suddenly backed out. The funding evaporated. And just like a recurring nightmare, I was standing on the edge of the cliff again. I could have walked away. I could have ended the journey of Shoppedia right then and there. I could have saved myself.

But I looked at my employees. My people. The people who swore they were loyal to me. I couldn't bear the thought of them going hungry. So, I walked back into the fire. I started taking out personal loans again, begging and borrowing from different people just to keep their paychecks flowing.

But you can give people the sun, the moon, and the stars... and the second the sky goes dark, they will curse you for the shadows.

The money eventually ran dry. The salaries were delayed. And the moment those paychecks stopped, the retaliation began. History repeated itself with a sickening precision.

I was painted as a monster. The employees I bled for—the people whose salaries I prioritized over my own survival—turned on me. All the times I paid them perfectly on time, all the goodness I poured into their lives, vanished into thin air.

It was entirely erased. They only remembered the delay.…

I sat in the wreckage of my second fallen empire, completely paralyzed. All I received were curses, insults, and molestations. No one came back to say, "Thank you, sir." No one said, "We know you tried."

I fell to my knees and asked the empty room: Why? What is wrong with me?

Why have I allowed myself to be in this mess again? I could have taken all that loan money and kept it for myself. I could have chosen to be a ruthless, abusive employer, like so many successful businessmen are. I could have stepped on their necks to save my own life.

But I didn't. I couldn't. I cannot be a bad person just because they did bad things to me.

But why am I the one suffocating? Why am I the one bearing the crushing weight of all this hatred? What happened to love? Where did the trust go?

Am I wrong for loving them?