Well, that's why I write about this. Because it is heavy. Because it hurts. Because it makes me uncomfortable. You think my readers want high hearted slice of life? Every relationship it tinged with a bit of sadness, because that's real life.
If you haven't been betrayed, it's because you didn't notice, or you never really trusted the other person.
And that's fine.
Everyone has a limit. There is a point you cut someone loose. Not everyone you meet is worth you making friends with them. Befriending someone out of pity is worse than never being friends at all.
So I write about they which hurts the most, because the pain seeps into every paragraph and that's why they read it. Pure concentrated drama with the banality of life crushed and purged from the final product.
Not drama for dramas sake, but a reflection of what you gave seen. The pain is what draws you in, but the character's method to survive it. To heal from it. To succumb to it. That's the hook.
The wooda cooda shooda.
To dream about how would you deal with this, and by extention wonder how you could have dealt with the pain you felt in the past. What was this pain?
The same pain we have all felt.
Dreams of revenge, of forgiveness, of understanding, of amends, of mercy...
They are all bittersweet. They all hurt in different ways.
So I write.