Distrust
(n.)
I was always smart enough never to trust boys. I’d swoon, I’d sway, I’d fall and I’d falter, but never had I thought to bare myself to them; to break myself down to the most naked truth of my existence. It never occurred to me that I’d meet someone who’d move me so deeply that I wanted to show parts of myself, I’d never opened up to anyone.
I never thought I’d meet you.
It’s not that I don’t trust you; it’s more that I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust myself to be able to keep you. I know who I am, what I am and what I’m not.
What if who I am drives you away?
What if you find out that what I am isn’t really what you wanted?
What if you look for what I’m not in someone else?
For my feelings to be returned is too much of a long shot; it’s that .1% bit of hope that you hold onto, fully aware that hope is all it is. It doesn’t come to fruition; it doesn’t happen.
Things like you don’t happen in my life.
So when I’m told there’s someone else; that you have someone else, I don’t question it, I don’t doubt it. That’s the thing about me and relationships, it’s either it never holds water or it holds too much and ends up sinking. The boat is sinking and I’m the iceberg.
It’s not you, it’s me.