Pieces

Last night I poured my heart out to a friend. I had to because the words were close to bursting out of me like a broken dam. I'm not good with spoken words. At least, not when it comes to feelings. I have hurt people's feelings with a joke.

The topic of our conversation was trust.

How do you know who to trust? She's worried that I don't trust her but I do. It's other people I don't trust. Other people who lie to your face and cheat behind your back. People who do things out of malice simply to light a spark that they hope will engulf your world in a burning blaze of drama. People who have so little to be thankful for in their own lives that they can't leave other people's lives alone.

My friend was right. I should have told her as soon as I found out. I shouldn't have hid it from her. She always knew there was something under the surface; I don't hide things well. And I would have if I had known how. But I didn't. I wasn't going to give an ultimatum. And I wasn't going to defame another person based on my opinion. So I decided to do nothing. Which ultimately was the wrong decision.

I spent eight years of my life in a whirlwind of persistent drama. New cities, new schools, new friends... every year. After all of the girl fights and fist fights, I am purely exasperated with it all. I don't have room in my life to take on someone else's drama. And at this stage in my life I would hope that I am past that.

I'm not sorry that I chose to say nothing. I'm not sorry that things have been said and done that cannot be unsaid or undone. I am sorry that someone used my friend's intimate knowledge of me and my life to drive a wedge between us. I am sorry that people come into your life that can't be trusted. But mostly I am sorry that the only way this person feels whole is to tear others to pieces.