A house built on maybe!
What is true,
and what is simply something beautiful to say?
When someone says,
“Trust me, I’m here,”
my heart almost believes them.
Almost.
And then fear quietly asks,
“But what if this one leaves too?”
He said,
“We’re right for each other.
I’m here.
I’ll take care of you.
We’ll build our future together.
You’ll never have to feel like you’re lacking anything.”
It felt good to hear.
Too good.
Good enough for a few moments
to make me wonder;
what if this could actually be true?
And then the fear came back.
How do I believe
that the person beside me today
will still be here tomorrow?
How do I know
that this story, too,
won’t end halfway?
Am I too caught up
inside my own head?
Or has the fear inside me
simply learned to ask
how everything ends
before it lets me enjoy
how it begins?
Perhaps we believe
that trust and fear cannot exist together.
And when a person chooses
one over the other,
perhaps they end up
destroying themselves
in some way.
Choose trust,
and you begin to believe
that the person in front of you
could never break it.
And if they do,
trust rarely dies all at once.
It simply teaches you,
little by little,
to forget
how to trust again.
And choose fear,
and love never really gets
a chance to win.
Every hand reaching for you
feels temporary.
Every promise carries
the sound of its own breaking.
Every happiness
already has a goodbye
waiting behind it.
And eventually,
you become so tangled
within yourself
that you mistake
your own fear
for fate.
Maybe the answer
was never to choose
between the two.
Maybe there is a road somewhere
in between;
where fear exists,
but you learn
to quiet it yourself.
Where trust exists,
but not blindly.
Where every day
you place one small brick
of trust,
and slowly,
you build a home.
Knowing all along
that a home can break.
And still choosing
to live in it today.
Can it be done?
I don't know.
Right now,
it just sounds like
the right thing to believe.
He says
he'll bring me the moon and stars.
And I think;
I won't ask for the moon.
I won't ask for the stars.
Just stay
for as long as
staying is possible.
But what is the truth?
His words?
Or the little happiness
those words gave me
for a few moments?
Who tells us
whether promises are real
or simply beautiful?
Perhaps no one.
Perhaps time does.
Perhaps it isn't his words
that will tell me.
Perhaps it will be
the way he chooses to stay.
And today?
Today, my answer is still no.
Not to him.
To my fear.
Today, once again,
I chose to protect myself
before I chose love. 🙂