Interrupt Conversation

Original painting by Michele Petrelli ©
297x420mm

Some conversations don’t end.
They are interrupted.
Abruptly.
With silence.
With absence.
With that calculated gesture that doesn’t come from pain, but from power.
The power to hurt those who loved them.

Cutting out someone who cared — taking advantage of their fragility to bend them to your will — is not an act of healing.
It’s blackmail.
A way to make them pay the price of having given too much.
Because the weak are easier to punish. They don’t react. They don’t defend themselves.
They use love to hurt.

But there comes a point where silence is no longer a wound: it becomes a confession.
A confession of pettiness that, sooner or later, reveals itself.

And at that point, the interrupted conversation is never resumed.
Because those who truly knew how to love, eventually learn how to let go.