The simple things

I had a most interesting conversation with my best friend’s father yesterday which got me thinking about trust [issues] and life in general and the different people we meet every day… And it reminded me of a novel I saw in a book store once about a place where people turned a certain colour depending on their latest indiscretion. What if you could tell (with all certainty) who a person was within 5 or so minutes of meeting them? What if we all wore our stories on our foreheads?

broken hearted girl

Love once made her a wonderful person… It created a glow in her eyes, a twinkle in her smile and a radiance of joy and peace and happiness. Love encompassed her being and surrounded her existence. She filled the world with the joy she radiated. Many believed because she believed and loved because she loved… And then nature set in and turned love cold… Because she didn’t know how to unlearn the details of her tainted love… The months and months of deliberate lies… The love that once made her strong and radiant now burned a whole in her heart… It scorched her insides until hope and faith went out the back door; replaced instead with pain, suspicion and mistrust… With heaviness of heart and dripping pillows. She desperately tried to hold on to what was…the girl who loved and hoped and believed like she had never been hurt; the girl who loved relentlessly; who loved because she loved… Not because she was loved.
She stares in the mirror and sad eyes stare back, wondering what happened to the girl she used to be…

once upon a breaking heart

I wonder if people realise what it takes for someone to hold out their hearts to them? You devote months, week, days, hours, precious seconds everyday to convince this person that you’ll handle their heart… that you can take care of it and they can trust you with it. You’re encouraging and wonderful. Right until they actually hold out the said organ of mass destruction. Suddenly its frightening. A threat. A commitment you’re not sure you’re ready for. A reminder of that time not so long ago when someone ripped yours out and threw it halfway across the globe. And your words, those sweet sweet melodious sounds of love, and care and strength evaporate into nothing. Sweet nothings. A bunch of things you probably said to make yourself smile. Because when they smile, you smile. You’ve hit the target, you nearly yelp as you prance and preen. All the while, they hug their pillow as they fall asleep. Wishing you were there. I wonder if people know that people pray for them even more than they pray for themselves. That they’ve fixed their broken trust as best they can because you’ve ‘shown’ them you’re worth it… That its taken EVERYTHING to just reach out…
I wonder if people know how much it takes to trust someone with your broken heart. Coz if they did, they’d know that you’ve given them the only thing that’s really yours. And they’d value it.