Why am I writing this?
The details of it are inconsequential. Strangely enough, I have no idea if the person concerned is reading this or not. Nor do I actually care anymore. It’s been made abundantly clear to me that caring, in this situation, has gone on for too long. Again, to the detriment of myself, and my own feelings. My trust has been made a fool of, a mockery of something so fragile.
Trust. I have issues with it. Big, ballooning, inter-connected, woven through years and emotions, issues. I’ve had my trust trampled on, beaten, questioned and torn apart. The downlow is, well, I battle to trust. I can only thank Sheena for being the first person to teach me how to trust. She taught me, she believed in me, at my worst, and she did not let me down. This blog post is not about Sheena but, she knows exactly who it is about. I thank my Shath-mate, every day, for truly teaching me how to trust, and how to rely on that trust. The quiet, warm one that you can come home to, even on your worst day.
So, when someone wins my trust. When someone wins my trust, I let them have all of it. Unguarded, unbridled and fearlessly. My trust goes beyond the constraints of anything definable and is, as humanly possible, infinite. It’s worth it when you win it, so I’m told.
Long story, short version. Somebody did win my trust. For quite a substantial period of time. That trust existed well beyond the confines of a conventional anything-and-everything. It existed right up until a few days ago, even after the hell-in-a-handbag the last few months of my life have been. That person lost my trust a few days ago, when I discovered a lack of honesty had occurred
in the past.
Again, details now completely irrelevant. You see, when I trust you, you’re on the speed dial list. You are the 2am-my-life-is-a-mess-person-i-can-call-and-you-can-do-the-same-for-me-and-i-will-answer. Despite the best advice of the other people on that same speed dial list, I trusted.
This whole nasty cancellation could have been saved if this person had just been honest. I live for honesty. I crave it, I ferret it out at every possible turn and I believe in it, even when it hurts. That honesty would have hurt. But, I could’ve lived with the hurt, if it had come out of honesty. I could have worked with it. I could have not have had to lose a friend in the process.
They chose the greatest lie of all – omission. Face it, omission IS the greatest lie. Thinking that truth will never come out, is pure tomfoolery.
It’s more fooling yourself than it is fooling anyone else. I’m probably speaking to the ether on this point. Either way, at least the ether is listening, and is somewhere I can put that hurt, work it out and…pull out my great big ‘cancel and delete’ button and move on.
No matter how precious this friendship was to me, for me, and with me, once the trust is gone – and it’s totally gone – I have to, for my own sake, and my own sanity, hit delete.
I am still I.
You can tie me up in lies.
You can tie yourself up in defence.
You can frill it up with evasion.
You can melt it down into platitudes.
You can shrug it off as no loss at all.
You can console yourself with distraction.
I have packed up the pictures, the ones where I saw myself in you, and you in I.
I have thrown away the things you gave me.
I have burnt the bridges you wanted me to build.
I have wasted the last tissue for my issue, on you.
But, I am still I.
Cancel. Delete. End Of File.