Day: June 4, 2012

  • armed and dangerous

    I'll let you cross it,
    let you take every line I've got.

    - The xx, Stars 

    -+-

    "I love your laugh!"

    I still don't know if she was talking to me.  'Cos my laugh is ridics.

    -+-

    One of the things that always seems to escape my grasp is the sin of forgiveness.

    Anyone that knows me would know that it's not the "forgiveness" part that eludes me.  I have been given many the slap on the wrist for being too forgiving.  To want to call out for a name, to reconnect, to once again feel the warmth of the people that I used to love.  To once again become an indiscriminate lighthouse, to be an unequivocal, headstrong fountain of kindness, trust, and optimism.

    "Christa, no," I would be told, with a look of wariness and caution, "you're way too trusting.  You need to know that there's people you can't trust."

    "I know," I would reassure, "I'm learning from my mistakes."

    Which, for the most part, has been successful.  In an enormously strange truth, I have to admit that I've stolen a lot of hearts this year.  There are complications that arise when your life motto is to make everyone, without distinction or discrimination, feel like they are the most important person in the world.  That was a life goal that went beautifully, like the flow of an orchestra.  That is, until love and loss got in the way.

    After that, I had to become more reserved.  It was a horrific necessity.  When a naive girl gives her heart away, only to be crushed repeatedly by disastrous friendships and relationships, the number of people in the world armed with my every secret becomes terrifying.  It is injury enough that in spite of it all, I keep trusting and giving, and giving, and giving, but it is even more worrisome when it becomes an arms race.

    I don't want to shy away to cynicism.  I don't want to believe in the worst in people, as necessary as that ought to be.  After all, my blog that documents nearly ten years of life, of history, of love, of loss, of personal challenges and downfalls, still remains as only a click away from my Facebook page.  I want to believe in giving to the people that are willing to accept my words as a gift.  That are willing to love my recollections and memories, and know that they are part of me.  I want to be able to give.

    But then, "Christa ... there's people you can't trust."

    I have to remember that I can't let myself be that person anymore.  I can't be that soul.  I know that love is worth it.  Love is always worth it.  It is worth the loss and the heartbreak.  But people are fearful for me, and with good reason.  These are people that I love.  That know me, crimes and all.  That know how much I've been hurt, and care for me, and don't want to see me get hurt anymore.  That know me well enough to know that I am always bound to get hurt again, because I just can't grasp the sin of forgiveness.  That know that while I am strong and determined, I'm only human.  A girl can only give away so much trust before there's nothing left to give.

    I want to give, but I know I must keep my heart at arm's reach.  I can face the pain and the hurt, but I don't want to lose my heart. You lose the things that you tape loosely on your sleeve.

    You don't even know what you've done for me, and you'll probably never read this, but thank you for the slap on the wrist - it was a reminder and a wake-up call.