When Everything Fades To What's Real

No matter what I said before, I honestly didn't think I'd changed.

I mean, I knew something broke inside me. I heard it go snap. I just figured that it wasn't a big snap. I figured that it was a small snap, and maybe not even a snap of what I thought it was.

But I know where it came from. It came from the little part of me that trusted too much.

I still trust too much.

No. Scratch that. I don't even have a scale of how much I trust, it's so out of wack right now, and it has been for a long while, I guess.

I had thought I could never trust again. I insisted I couldn't- because then if I couldn't, I wouldn't get hurt. And if I couldn't trust, maybe my fairytale would come sooner. I had made it out to be broken, irreparable.

But somewhere, I was afraid that I hadn't changed at all. That I still trusted too much.

But I see these changes. These differences. When I go to say something, when I go to tell something, I pause. I pause and pull away. I pause, pull away, and then wonder why.

I pause, pull away, wonder why, and realize it's because something did snap. Something changed. And I no longer trust as I did before.

Something I hardly believed when I first wrote it many months ago. Now I know. Now I know I'm telling the truth, because it resonates with me. And I'll make no assumptions on how much I trust now, but I know I shy away from making new best friends. In case everything falls apart again.

Perhaps it's not that I don't trust other people, perhaps it's that I can't trust myself. But that doesn't make sense either right now.

I'm a conundrum.