Trust Issues

June 23, 2011
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“Don’t you trust me?” He asked, that same old charming smile framing his face. It was a smile that I knew well, it was the smile of a snake.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. The flow of words choked and sputtered like an old car. I was at an impasse. To be honest I didn’t know who to trust. He had an outstretched hand that was waiting for me; it was so tempting with its familiarity yet I knew where it would lead me. It would lead me to another heartbreak. One of the many that had come from this angelic yet devilish mind. I wanted so badly to trust him. My heart was yearning for his warm, strong arms that would in the end crush me. Did I love him? Yes, yes I did. Did I trust him? No, no I didn’t. He was nothing more than a snake disguised as a beautiful angel. No matter how many times he broke me down and left me to my own heart wrenching agony, I always got back up again, ready to take another hit. Not only was the pain a constant thing, but so was his return when I had finally mended the broken pieces he had left behind. Back before I knew just how cruel he could be, I would have gladly reached out, taken his hand, and done whatever it was to make whatever this was last. Now things were different. Now I had learned that there was more out there. I had finally learned that I could have more, that I deserved more. But now looking at this familiar, beautiful face a question popped into my mind; did I want more?
I had found someone else. Someone whose strong and warm arms had no intention of crushing me. Instead they were all but too gentle with me, making sure that no harm was to ever come my way. This other someone had a big heart, a heart that could swallow me whole. Old fears of nights where I would have to cry myself to sleep and angry fights faded away when I was in those arms. I felt safe.
When the old fears faded, new fears began to sprout their roots within me, planting new seeds which eventually grew into full out nightmares. What if I broke his heart like mine had been broken? Could I cause the type of pain and torment that I had gone through to someone so nice and innocent. Flashbacks hit me like a ton of bricks answering my questions. I had been that innocent and nice before my heart had been broken the first time. Any heart could be broken down into the smallest of fragments, even one that was to big to comprehend. Now as I looked into the old face of the person who had hurt me the most I had to wonder. Was it better to be the broken hearted or the heart breaker?
“Don’t you trust me?” He asked, his warm, tempting hand waiting for me. There were no words to be spoken, no answer to be responded.
Did I trust him? No, I didn’t.
Did I trust myself? I honestly had no idea.

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