Misplaced Trust

I’ve spent a lifetime of having faith in the wrong people. You would have thought that, at 34, I would have learnt my lesson by now. But I will say that it isn’t quite that simple.

I have been left insecure and fragile by the experiences of my past, but one thing that hasn’t yet been destroyed is my kind heart. So I still have an unerring faith in humanity, that there is some good and kindness out there somewhere, and if I don’t allow myself to open up in some ways to people, then I will never find it. I still go in cautiously, expecting to be taken advantage of, in a way. It can be even harder when you think that you have found someone who might actually be able to see past all of your flaws. Whether it be just simple friendship, or potentially something more (and it all has to start somewhere, anyway), I still keep searching and looking for those people that will prove my doubts wrong, that will prove to me that there is goodness in the world, that may even potentially save me.

But there are no “knights in shining armour”. In fact, many would-be rescuers have turned out to be demons dressed as knights, those fabled “wolves in sheep’s clothing”. It’s all left me with dents and bruises, leaving me looking a bit mismatched as I’ve had to repatch my armour in various places over the years. But the truth about humanity is that no one is perfect, that we’re all infallible. In looking for perfection you will only ever find flaws, faults, all the things that will just make you feel let down again, whether that is the intention of the other person or not. You want to see the best in people, yet all the demons have left you embittered, so even the slightest mistake can have you believing that they are just another one of those demons, out to get you, to destroy you. Slowly, through the years, the kind heart is so full of wounds and scars that, even when you want to be kind, you find it hard to be. You still want to see the best in people, but the scar tissue means that every new person that comes along has to fight a lot harder to win a treasured place.

So many won’t want to fight for a place, or won’t be able to handle the crazy mix of emotions that comes across as a result of all the damage. Even long-term friends may eventually run away, unable to cope with all the pressure. It’s left me very alone, and I believe that I may well be forever alone, as I don’t believe that there is anyone out there now who has the patience to stick around, to prove themselves and reassure me when I need it. I’ve ended up needing constant reassurance of people’s intentions, as it's become such that nowadays it won’t take much for me to lose faith in them. They say that “actions speak louder than words”, or that “words are wind”, but the right words, when actions are unavailable, can be just enough to allow you to hold on just that little bit longer.

I am quite fragile and break easily, yet I have a strong core. I use my strength to pull myself together again after every betrayal, but each time I remake myself I am not the same as I was before, leaving me trusting less, giving less chances, and requiring even more patience than before to handle. I’ve always refused to let the demons destroy the loving, kind person inside of me that would do anything for those that I care about, but she is slowly disappearing and eventually, one day, will be no more.

About to Derail

There is so much stress in my life right now. Too many things to get done, with time running out in which to do it in. Plus, getting older, feeling every day as my life moves forward. I’ll soon be thirty-four. It’s not a pleasant thought at all, knowing how few years I have left to settle down, a time frame of about six years in which I can have kids, if I so wish to. But that isn’t primarily what’s driving me right now. No, what’s driving me right now is despair, that feeling of being a complete failure, of bringing destruction to everything I touch. I’m an unwanted reject, too broken to be of any use to anyone. Who wants damaged goods nowadays? Too many have come into my life leaving behind piles upon piles of destruction. All anyone has wanted to do is to destroy me. Me, being the fool, has gone in, open-hearted, giving my all, as I always have done, loving with very little return, until it eventually destroys me.

After everything I’d seen and been through, I had decided that enough was enough, that I would give up. Me, unwanted, unneeded, not willing to ever give a single part of me to those undeserving ever again.

But then, something happens, something that took me completely by surprise. A light came on. Someone turned on a light inside me, a fragile thing that I hadn’t seen for such a long time. All those times I’d tried to relight a dwindling flame that was barely existent to begin with and here, all of a sudden, was a light that lit itself. Greedily, desperately, with fear, hunger and wonder in my eyes, I try to grab it with shaky hands, as if it is the most precious thing in the world and I just have to have it. Such a rare jewel that I was losing all hope of ever finding and here it suddenly was. Yet, I’m a clumsy fool. I burn myself on the flame, drop it on the ground, try to smother it with a heart that is so achingly reaching towards it, desperate to feed it. The caretaker comes to remove it to a safe place, puts a glass tube over it and a cordon around it. It is taken away from me. I can see it, but can’t touch. I can still just about feel the warmth, but from a distance, an all-too-safe distance. I’ve fucked up again.

So, here I am, again. Unable to cope with the possibility that there might be hope for me out there, but at the same time unable to cope with the other possibility of a lifetime alone. Yet, alone appears to be where it must be. I wasn’t ready to love again and perhaps I never will be. But, there again, are any of us ever ready? I don’t know if we actually have much choice, really, when the arrow chooses to strike. We all have a choice of how to react and I know that, because of my past, I can never react well to it. I am a frightened fawn, caught in the headlights. I want and need so desperately, but at the same time I am terrified of being torn to shreds again once more. I become a jittery fool that scares everyone away. So, thus, it leaves me doomed to the only choice left available – being alone.

Perhaps, in time, it won’t become a bad thing. Perhaps in time I will learn to trust myself, the only person I know I can truly rely on. I have been too nice to and too trusting of others in the past and it has been my downfall. So I say no more. I am done being that fool. It’s time to let the bitch start her reign.