How do I learn to trust you again?
When a man doesn’t share his feelings, keeps everything close to the vest, inhabits your world but doesn’t let you inhabit much of his; how do you learn to trust his words and actions and believe what he says?
When a man fails to tell you of his despair and comes to you with, “I think I may want a D.I.V.O.R.C.E.,” how do you know that he won’t walk through the door, pack his bags, and just leave even though he tells you he is happy now?
Like a Greek tragedy, I just can’t forget your words as easily as you dismiss your intentions. I see/hear your words, D.I.V.O.R.C.E. re-playing in my head, scratchy and skipping parts like an old movie soundtrack. They are rough like the ocean banging into the rocks on the shore, removing a grain of the rock every time it gets hit. Your words echo in my head.
You tell me everything is so much better…for who? For who is it better? How do I know that your words honor the truth of what you are feeling deep inside in those places you refuse to share with me? Because I don’t feel better and I am not sure how you could feel better about our relationship, so easily, and with such little effort.
Sure we laugh more, since you outed some of your feelings. And the sex is incredible. And the house looks great. But I don’t feel better because I don’t trust that this is real. I don’t trust that this, that I, am enough for you because I have so often not been. Yeah, those “harmless” flirty texts they have done a number on me and my trust is serrated instead of smooth. My trust in you, in us, and in myself is lacking. It’s incomplete.
Because how do you go from miserable and “I may want a D.I.V.O.R.C.E.” to everything is great…and I am happy in 35 days? I don’t trust this. I don’t trust you. But I want to. Desperately.
How do I learn to trust again?
I wish I knew.