A Girl's Diary

Trust Issues

I wish to go off script. I wish to be away from eyes and ears. 

That's not true, though.

I only really wish to blindly know, for sure, that the eyes and ears who are allowed to touch me are those that I can trust. 

Ever heard of trust issues? Yeah, me too. Do you know them as well as I do?

I'm working on it. It's all a work in progress and I'm sure you can relate. 

It's a pain in the butt to have to work so constantly and tirelessly on something so blind. Who am  I building this wall for? What will they say? What will they do? No matter how tall or thick or deep I build this wall, will it stand against my enemy?

What if we had no enemies?

Well, that's naive. Without threat or war signal, there are those who love the feeling of a spear in their hand. 

The phrase 'that's human nature' is a nasty one. 

Who really knows what human nature is anyway? It used to be different 1000 years ago, it was different 100 years ago. Technically, it was different yesterday. 

Who cares what human nature is? Who can prove it anyway?

That's right, no one. 

It's terrible son, 'boys will be boys' sounds just the same to me. Need I compare?

Boys will be boys and humans will act in their nature if there is nothing stopping them. 

I've played the part of police woman. I've played the part of army general. It's tiring. Who wants to be on all the time? 

It's tiring. 

I wish I didn't need to be prepared for the next battle. I wish I didn't need to use this energy protecting myself. 

When I was little, I was vulnerable. My brother loved to be mean, with his words and his fists equally. I would scream and cry, and ask my parents why no one was protecting me? Weren't the innocent meant to be protected? 

If the innocent so inherently get protection, then who so inherently protects?

Maybe that's what we love about super heroes so much. They are selfless, never really have a personal life beyond a spouse who doesn't seem to care that they're never home. They're super heroes, they have super powers and luck on their side. They have an unbeatable body and strategy. They always win. 

They're not real. 

What's real is that we all wish we had someone indestructible protecting us. What's real is... no body wan't to be a blade of grass in the wind. 

I wish I was never tainted by negative words send to my heart to pierce it. The first couple times though, those arrows aimed correctly made it there. I didn't know how to protect myself. Sometimes I still don't but what I am thankful to have at least learned though, is that I don't need the type of protection that I originally wanted. 

Sometimes when I would see an arrow coming my way, I would forget to look past it, at the eyes near the bow and quiver. Being fearful of the arrow lessens the connection even more. Why do we look at clocks, and why do we look at arrows, when we could be looking at eyes, and our fingers could be monitoring the surfaces beneath them instead? 

Screw human nature. Screw building walls. Screw natural tendencies anyway. Screw soap boxes and eyes and ears and eye rolling and narrowing and widening. Most of all, screw building walls and fortresses and sighs of relief thinking no arrows can catch even a tiny corner of your heart, only to be pierced head on a second later. Screw it all. None of it matters anyway. 

The catch is focusing on the fortress and the arrows anyways, when, all along, you could've been focusing on god knows whatever else the whole time. 

Trust issues? Boy, I've got 'em. You know what's worse than having trust issues? Saying it, thinking it, telling it, most of all writing it. 

Having them doesn't need to hold me back, so I should stop placing them right in front of my eyes. I hate them anyway, why would I want to look at them. They remind me that I'm broken and that I wish for far away places, far away dreams, far away people who don't even know my name. Trust issues spit in my eyes so I can't even see what's right in front of my face. 

Maybe I'd be better off never speaking of them again, but can I ? If I stop speaking of them, if I stop writing about them, if I stop telling about them, would they go away at all or metastasize? 

The truth can only be found with more research. 

Thanks for reading.