Trust

     I don't have any.  Not in family, not in friends.  Not in God, or my own perceptions.  Not that my right shoe goes on my right foot or that the grass outside is really green.  I don't want to be insulting to people telling them I don't trust them, it's just that I am waiting for them to realize as I once did that all the things they base their trust on don't really exist.  That seems harsh, and cynical.  I was so wide eyed once, how did I ever become a cynic?  It is like there is a little glowy sphere of trust and love that belongs in the chest of every person, just a little below the sternum and perhaps to one side, and mine is gone.  I can go on acting for the most part as if my life is continuing normally, and people around me do the same, until they try and reach out for some sort of human connection involving...trust.  Don't.   Get.  Near.  Me.
     I used to see people like me.  Back when I was wide eyed, I mean.  I knew they were misguided.  Poor lost little souls.  If they would just talk things out, they would realize that no one could ever intentionally hurt them, they needed to go back to where they came from and accept that love was everywhere, they would discover all that angst was for nothing.
     I see wide eyed people now.  I quietly belly up to them, trying to take comfort in the hope shining out of their eyes.  I don't think they know what they're doing.  But I can see them holding on to something real, that is trust in goodness, and I envy that they have not lost theirs as I have mine.
     I want trust to be real.  I recognize that something vital is gone.  But no amount of chanting or affirmations can replace what is empty.  I know that it is there somewhere.  I trust that trust exists, even if I can't believe in it right now.  Not as a lie or a comforting dream, but as reality.  I trust that it is possible to find the real thing.