I don’t understand why you refuse to trust me on things. It’s probably not a matter of trust really, as someone once told me, but I guess it’s also my fault that I refuse to tell you anything but really, how can I when every I do try to tell you, you burst on a ball of pure repulsion? How can I sum up the courage when the last time that I did, you refused to listen and tell me that it’s alright, instead, you accuse me of other things? Since then, I’ve refused to tell you anything worth telling you about because you yourself have lost my trust. It may sound a little bit selfish for my own taste but I can assure you that you have not gained any of my trust and although it may seem to you that you deserve it for reasons that you alone can comprehend, I am not willing to grant it to you any time soon.
I’m not angry, I just feel so frustrated at the thought that after all this time we are still at this dilemma. I find it a little funny though that we both grant each other the benefit of the doubt but refuse to truly and sincerely give the trust necessary for this. Know this, however, that I am not the person you think I am. I’d like to correct you and tell you that you do not know me at all. It’s not only because you don’t try but also because I don’t let you and I’m sorry for that. However, I can’t seem to wrap my head at the thought of letting you in because every time I try to or am close enough to letting you peek, there’s something between us that pushes the effort. It’s a fundamental force that I’m afraid I will never understand and so I guess until then, we will be pushed to do things out of doubt.
You have your faults and I have mine. We’re like a happy marriage that would not admit defeat.
