01/11/2025
FICTION OR NOT? Let's talk about trust and honesty!
I’ve always trusted people by default.
Not because I don’t know better,
but because I choose to believe the human heart still has light in it.
When I love you, you don’t need to prove you’re good —
I trust you until you show me I shouldn’t.
That’s how it was with her.
We weren’t perfect, but we had something I believed in…
or maybe I believed in who she could be.
Then there was that Sunday.
Nothing dramatic — just little things that didn’t feel like her.
Pauses too long for simple conversations.
Replies arriving like someone coming up for air, not talking to someone they love.
She said she was home studying.
Then she said she was going out with friends she “wasn’t really close to.”
I didn’t argue. I never do.
When you trust someone, you don’t police them — you just observe.
The evening stretched.
She told me she took something non-alcoholic.
Later it became something stronger.
Stories shifted like sand under tired feet.
Time gaps widened.
Calls rang unanswered.
Messages stayed seen but silent.
3AM — a call suddenly appeared.
Voice calm, like nothing happened.
Words tidy, like they were rehearsed.
“Sorry, I slept off… the outing, you know… I was tired.”
But sometimes it’s not the lie that hurts —
it’s the effort to make you doubt your instinct.
She forgot one thing though:
Silence tells its own story.
And a picture — taken in a car that didn’t match her explanation —
said what her mouth refused to admit.
All the pieces didn’t match.
Not the timeline.
Not the location.
Not the sudden secrecy.
Not the kind of exhaustion you only feel after a different kind of company.
I wasn’t angry.
I was quiet.
I just wanted the truth — not to punish,
but because truth helps the heart heal honestly.
But instead came gaslighting.
“Why don’t you trust me?”
As if my spirit didn’t whisper before my mind caught up.
As if intuition is a crime.
And here’s the part people don’t say out loud:
Sometimes betrayal isn’t the wound…
it’s the moment you realise someone chose deceit over vulnerability.
Not just what they did — but that they hid, lied, and let you bleed silently.
Still… I would have forgiven her.
Not because I’m weak —
but because love, when it’s real, always hopes for redemption.
But closure came — not from confession,
but from clarity.
Her actions spoke where her lips stayed quiet.
And you know what I learned?
I’d rather lose someone than lose the version of myself that trusts, loves, and believes.
I’d rather walk alone with peace than stay with someone whose truth needs chasing.
Some people break trust loudly.
Others do it softly, in the spaces between their words.
Both hurt — but both teach.
So here’s to hearts like mine:
We trust deeply.
We love openly.
We feel everything — and still choose softness.
Because the right person will protect what we give,
not exploit it.
I didn’t lose her —
I lost the illusion of who I hoped she was.
And that’s okay.
Truth always frees you, even when it hurts first.
I still trust by default.
Not because everyone deserves it,
but because I deserve to remain who I am —
uncontaminated by someone who couldn’t handle honesty.
