Trust.

Listening to: Black and Gold - Sam Sparro

 

And the stars fell out of the sky

And my tears rolled into the ocean

Now I'm lookin' for a reason why

You even set my world into motion

 

The line was quiet.

 

"I'm afraid we'll change."

 

Why do you think its changed? Nothing happened yet and already, we're changing.

 

"I don't want it to change."

 

But you're not really helping, are you? You're not giving me any credit, any trust to be able to let me handle my situation. You're all paranoid about what is going to happen next. You make all these assumptions of what might happen when you don't even let me start with anything. Sure, I haven't given you proof that I'm working towards keeping us together but if you want evidence, I'll give it to you.

 

It was just supposed to be a simple resignation.

 

But now, I'm not quite sure what the hell is going on. I'm in this place in my head where somehow, I'm kind of floating outside my body, seeing what's going on, and I'm tossing up between how I'd feel about staying here for longer. Who knows. Another year? Maybe? It guarantees financial security, it guarantees a place to stay, a place to live in, it guarantees my independence, it guarantees so many things and yet, I'm still looking at running like a bat out of hell.

 

Trust. All I want. All I really expected.

And you, of all people, could not give it to me.

Instead, I'm turning to others that I've not called on for so long but yet I know they would keep my best interests at heart. They are non-judgemental, they are understanding, they are supportive. Heck, they even prayed for me. They wished me the best with my performance review and told me that I'll be just fine because I'm sealed with the blood of Jesus. I'm God's own and I'll be fine.

 

*sigh*

 

I'm tired.

 

I'm fatigued.

Again I stand at the edge of the precipice, looking over the edge at the dark black waters churning foam into a feeding frenzy down below. The wind rakes its claws through my hair, my eyes, my ears and I'm doing all I can to try and stand on my own two feet.

 

I'm tired of fighting the wind.

 

I want to give up. Surrender. Turn around and fall into the deep dark waters.

I will suffer for a while. 3 minutes, to be precise. But the eternal bliss might be slightly more tolerable than this shite.

 

Yes.

I know I'm running away.

 

But I am tired. So. so. so. tired.

 

"I thought I could handle a cross of this size"

The operative word here, is thought.