Trust. Again.

It's getting harder and harder to deal with myself.

Whoever is reading this blog is probably getting pretty sick of all these waves coming from the sole event of two and a half months ago. It's like the ripples never die. And you wanna know the truth? I'm sick of it too, but honestly nothing happening right now that isn't connected to The End of My Life as I Knew It is very interesting.

So bear with me? Or leave. That's okay too.

I hate not having people to trust. I hate not being able to trust people. Are these two things the same? Are they tied together or are broken apart? I hope it's something like; I can't trust anyone because there's no one I'm able to trust for very good and logical reasons. Not something like; I can't trust ever again, no matter how true blue someone is.

I guess I'll find out later on in life. This could become a pain if it's the latter.

For one reason or another, I cannot tell people I know things. I can't tell Jenni or Michelle about my suspicions about a certain person because they'll no doubt tell persons involved with that person and it will just explode. Yes, it sounds complicated without names, but it's quite simple. I cannot tell others the same thing because either A) they don't/won't care, or they'll do something along the lines of what Jenni and Michelle would do. Or B) They'll just go straight to the source of the problem, which is as equally bad as the J/M result, worse because it's possible the GOOD things that could come out of it, won't.

Gosh. Complex. Without details, this could be anything.

And then there's people I probably could trust, but have turned into people I don't care to talk to. Or I'm just sick of talking to period.

If I go down the list, no one is available for consultation. So I'm stuck here, on my own, passing the days twiddling my thumbs as secrets, suspicions and confessions pile up and up in my gut until I burst. Or just collapse like an accordion.


Well... There's one place to go...


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