Thoughts race through my mind, skimming the outer layer of my consciousness. Some topics I dwelled on others seemed unimportant, but he repeatedly crossed my mind. I don't know what we are, I think to myself. We stay up late into the night talking, confiding our secrets in each other, showing our burning desires without flinching while looking into the faces of each other's truths and faults.
Looking at our pasts without wincing at the deep scars left there by others, whom were thought important or irreplaceable. And in that piece of perfection we still doubt one another for no reason at all. Even as I whisper my hearts deepest desire in his ear, the slightest piece of doubt in him shouts over my gentle whisper crying out, " She's lying! Don't listen to her feeble attempts to steal your trust! Think of what happened last time...think of what she could do to you!
Wound you. Cripple you. She could destroy you once you give her your heart!" And so he listens to the doubtful whispers inside him instead of the hopeful ones who hear my hints of honesty in my pleading whispers for a chance. A chance. That's all I asked for, and yet he took it as an act of war. What did I do? He turned his back on me on the slightest whim of doubt because he was scared.
Scared of something real.
Scared of trusting someone.
Scared of expectations.
Scared of disappointments.
Scared of being disappointed.
Thanks to his doubt, I was disappointed, and he must be disappointed in himself for not giving me at least a chance. Even if it ment disappointment.