Trust Left in the Dust

I don’t trust people. We established that a few posts ago, but it’s worth reiterating.

I. Don’t. Trust. People.

I don’t depend on them to be there for me, to pick me up when I’m down, to give me a ride to the airport or to tell me when my ass looks fat.

Why?

Because I know better. And I came by that knowledge the hard way.

If left to their own devices, I believe that people will only look out for their own interests. If there is an easy way out, they will take it. If there’s a way to gain the maximum benefit with the least amount of energy expended, they’ll find it. If they can get away with it, they’ll sure as hell try.

And THAT is why they can’t be trusted.

Their motivations are largely self-serving and I truly believe that most people would sell their own mother if they thought it would get them where they want to be. Does this make them dedicated? Disciplined? Motivated? No. It makes them selfish and untrustworthy.

And you may ask, “What about YOU, random bloggy chick? Does your apple fall far from that greedy tree?”

Well, that depends.

Yes, I will put my own needs before others. Yes, I will partake in the path of least resistance. Yes, I’ve been known to manipulate a situation to my benefit (this usually involves nudity).

BUT (and there’s always a BUT)…

I generally tend to relegate such behavior as a RESPONSE, not a habit. If I believe for a moment that you are playing me, lying to me, manipulating me, sizing me up with malicious intent…I will do whatever it takes to save myself. And if that includes a kick to the giblets (literally or metaphorically), well, sucks to be you.

Lets take The Man Formerly Known as Loverboy. Wow, that’s a mouthful. Then again, so was he [insert girlish giggle here]. But let’s give him a new moniker, shall we? How about “Dude”? “Big Dick Jones”? “Wilford Brimley”?

Wait- I got it. We’ll call him THAT GUY.

Ok, so THAT GUY and I met many moons ago and I kind of assumed that I was his only Gal Friday. And I think that for a while, I was. But eventually I think he got bored with me (I know- WTF?? Who gets bored WITH ME? Ha! Just kidding. I bore myself to tears all the time). Anyhoo, I found out that he was chatting up some other bimbo and it broke my heart.

Of course I confronted him and at first, he feigned ignorance. Then it was denial. Then it was acceptance. Then it was apologies. Truth is, I understood where he was coming from. It’s easy to get swept away when you have a woman lavishing attention on you, as I’m sure she did. In fact I know firsthand that while men THRIVE on flattery and attention, it’s often their downfall. Men are egocentric creatures.

And yes, I’m well aware that 95% of my minuscule readership consists of men.  Men with big egos.

Deny it, I dare you.

What DID baffle me about the situation is that this chick was different from me in EVERY POSSIBLE WAY. I’m still not sure what to make of that. Moreover, I’m not sure why I still care.

The point of all this blathering is that, with this revelation, my level of trust in him began to wax and wane, much like a case of the herp. And when it was waxing (waxing is the good one, right? Waning is where it gradually disappears?), I convinced myself that it didn’t matter what he did in the PAST. What mattered is that he’s with me NOW.

But is he REALLY with me? We aren’t together 24/7…how do I know he’s not feeding her the same recriminations that he fed me? How do I know that when he’s with me, I’m the one he wants to be with?

And thus begins the waning.

And boy, did it wane.

I did a complete 180. I didn’t trust anything that came out of his mouth from that point forward. I hated that I felt that way, but I couldn’t help it.

There were signs…few and far between. Little white lies (or even just absentminded commentary) that turned out to be incongruous. And I’m talking LITTLE, teeny, minuscule things.

But you know how the old song goes: Once bitten, twice shy.

So my guard remained up and I become ever-watchful, almost to the point of paranoia. It drove me (and him) batty. And somehow I couldn’t reconcile why I hadn’t just walked away when I discovered his initial dalliance. After all, if  my HUSBAND had pulled that crap, I’d have zippered his dick into his Dockers.

I believed that he was only with me because he didn’t want to put forth the effort to find someone new. Maybe he was just “humoring me”. Or maybe he was staying because he didn’t know how to break it off without hurting me. Then again, he genuinely liked fucking me, so why upset the apple cart? The (pretend) possibilities were endless, but they all skewed heavily against both of us. Had any of the above options been true, it would have made him a douchebag of EPIC proportions and it would have turned me into a mewling little patsy.

And Mama don’t mewl.

I had no real answer for my lack of resolve, but I think it was because in my heart, I knew I couldn’t fault him. If I’m not enough, I’m simply not enough. And that’s not to say that I’m a bad person…I’m simply not the person he needed me to be.

Getting back to our initial premise, you now understand in part why I don’t trust people. Is That Guy the only dude who dun did me wrong? Hardly. But he was the most recent, so I’m gonna blame it on him anyway. Unlike his less-evolved brethren, I vehemently believe THAT GUY had no malicious motives toward me. He stood nothing to gain by hurting me. He did not intentionally try to break my heart. And therein lay my forgiveness.

Forgiveness is easy. Forgetfulness is WAY harder.

We are no longer a couple, so I suppose that renders his past behavior moot, right? We’re great friends, so what could he possibly do to hurt me? Nothing, I guess. Although I still wear my heart on my sleeve, it’s covered by a protective patch that doesn’t move. Not for ANYONE.

Why is it so vital that I trust people? Honestly- can you give me ONE good reason how my life would be better if I let someone in? Why am I not better off just fending for myself and looking out for Number One?

Because then I would have become everything I’m trying to avoid. And I don’t want to avoid myself- I’m with myself ALL THE. TIME. Do you have any idea how hard it would be to stop looking at myself and trying to decipher my own motives??

Unfortunately for me, I know all too well.