Trust

                Don’t you sometimes wish your heart was a heart of stone?

                (With a heart of stone, you’ll be well protected.)

Trust can be like the tides, ebbing and flowing between two people; sometimes high, sometimes low.

Or it can be like a living creature, growing ever stronger, though weakening at times.

Or, it can be like a delicate figurine, easily broken yet difficult to mend. And if it can be mended, there are cracks running through it, whether they are visible or not.

I suppose I see it more like the last example.

Due to a recent confluence of multiple interrelated events, I'm feeling very distrustful of a number of people lately, and by extension, of people in general. And of gay men, somewhat specifically.

Don’t you sometimes wish your heart was made of stone?

I see all interpersonal relationships, whether they are romantic, platonic, familial or professional, as a stream. The relationships flow on, sometimes very calm and smooth, and somewhat turbulent at other moments. If the Rock of Broken Trust is dropped into the stream, the course of the stream is altered forevermore. Even if it falls in during a calm stretch, once the ripples settle down, that rock is now lying at the bottom and has altered the path of the water, as the current must now take that foreign object into account and alter its course accordingly, however slightly.

I ask the river for a sign,

(In a dream, we go on forever)

How long is love supposed to shine?

(In a dream, diamonds are forever)

I’ve been in this place before, where someone close to me has broken my trust. In time, we moved forward, yet the incident that broke this trust lies deep within my soul, like the Rock of Broken Trust at the bottom of the riverbed. Our relationship has forever changed, if only a tiny bit.

Get the picture? No room for the innocent,
Peak season in lonely town,
Knocked out of the ring by love,
Are you down and up, or up and down?

I have no idea what the future holds, does anyone?

                Sweet rain like mercy in the night

                (Lay me down, wash away the sorrow)

                Caress my soul and make it right

                (Lay me down, show me your tomorrow)

I know that broken trust hurts. Yes, I am hurting. Like the priceless figurine that gets knocked off the shelf, trust can inadvertently be broken. When I spoke with those who’d broken my trust, they were quite shocked and were truly very sorry. I also believe they didn’t intentionally mean to break my trust. But, the little figurine is still cracked; yet, we are moving forward.

                But, you and I, we hurt together, hurt alone,

                Don’t you sometimes wish your heart was a heart of stone?

Yes, I do.

It can be smoothed out, but that little wrinkle is still there.