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Enemy in my own encampment

October 8, 2009

On occasion, sparely written words aren’t nearly enough. They can’t capture the breadth of the betrayal, what it means to run across someone trusted in an untrustworthy space. They don’t tell the story behind months of recon, years of recovery. They glance off truth, then spin away like misfired bullets.

I have spent years battling my instincts, but not now, not this time. They have never been wrong before. But I was wrong every time I chose not to protect myself from the enemy in my own encampment.

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