Mindfucked and Exhausted
Things where so much simpler when you where four and you could say how you felt and exactly what you meant and not worry about upsetting anyone because you where four and let’s be honest you didn’t know any better. Sometimes I wish I could be four again and not have to deal with grown up emotions and feelings. Back when your head and heart were one in the same and wanted the same things, way back when before you got hurt or knew better, when fucking up was both expected and accepted.
But I’m not four anymore so I have to deal with being ‘mindfucked’ (for want of a better word) and frankly I’m exhausted by it all.
My head keeps reciting the words that “A man should be judged on the sum of his actions” but my heart is desperately trying to talk my head out of believing this so feverously. Trust is something that can’t be bought, battered or stolen it is something given freely. I don’t trust easily and when I do I have one foot out the door – it is a character flaw I know and is something I have long since struggled with. The past is hard to shake off and even harder to fully get over. I do trust… I trust just fine until I’m given a reason not to. Hmmm thinking about it I guess this leaves me open to being mindfucked good and proper but it is who I am and I can’t change that I can only strive to be better.
In the last few days I have trusted completely, had my trust broken and broken someone’s trust in me (although this person gallantly denies that I have, I still feel to the contrary) I guess putting it another way I have mindfucked, been mindfucked and been a mindfuckee – damn that’s a lot of fucks and not one of them being the kind of fuck I have desired!
I have spend the morning grovelling to the one whose trust I broke – he claims I have no need too and he has nothing to forgive me for. But I still feel the need to apologies a billion times over. I know he is going to read this and shake his head thinking what do I have to say to make you believe that you have nothing to apologies about and that you haven’t broken my trust. Truth is nothing you can say will make the feeling I have in the pit of my stomach go away so let me grovel please! I think the reason I feel so incredibly guilty is because we shared such a momentous moment on Friday when we realised we were both very much halves of the same coin – and that is amazing. As we stepped forward the only things that were required were full and complete trust and honesty. I won’t say which of the two I had a minor infraction (broken IMO) on but I find myself willing to do whatever this persons asks of me from now on – no matter what it is. I owe this person more than they could ever imagine and to put that in perspective is to say I was close to the edge and this person pulled me back in and they’ll know exactly to what I’m referring, but really the less said about it all the better.
Okay to the point to which I’m struggling with the most – my trust being broken. I’m not mad about it – I just want to be very clear on that point so I’ll say it again I’M NOT MAD!!! I am about 50 shades of hurt (yes I just made a 50 Shades of Grey reference now get over it!!!) I think the reason I’m struggling about how I feel is not because my trust was broken (I mean I expect everyone in my life to do this at least once – I told you I had trust issues I wasn’t messing I really am that fucked up!) but who broke it. Without going into many details this person is in my life but is in ‘limbo’ and is seated between two chairs friend and something more. I can’t decide which of them it would have been better this person had been. I want very much to get past it and move on. The person has apologised and admitted they were wrong and for me that is more than a good place to start.
I guess it all comes down to me being worried about being hurt again and what will happen when the ‘fog’ is lifted. I mean we have had some pretty intense conversations in the past but now that I think about it all them where in text form and I worry he can’t talk to me about these things with his voice and not with his fingers….oh I’m a mess – a mindfucked, mindfucking, mindfuckee mess!
And it is exhausting.