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I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.

Sunday, August 14, 2016

RIP

This is about something very important but for some reason we always end up taking for granted.  Love is in a different plateau.  This one belongs to another.  Of course, they should ALWAYS ALWAYS go together.  I know some of us wish, they don't.  Love fails miserably without this.  This one it tells you, it could be possibly love or even greater.    It works and doesn't work clearly in opposite directions .... love survives with it .... love aint, without it.    Isn't it true, a trustworthy person is endearing?

Based on my personal life experiences, this is what I have learned.

I do not subscribe that trust should be based on faith. Trusting that the other person is worth it.  That the whole journey is going to be worthwhile.  Trust in that package is the type we take for granted. Then we lose its meaning.  It's abundance makes it ordinary.  Significance is lost.  We stopped working for it, through it, in it. It's just there. And we didn' t care

Given the amount and quality of emotions invested in this exercise, all the risks and damages are most of the time miscalculated and beyond repair.   Trustworthiness requires pre-qualifications, meeting of minimum standards, solid grounds, unquestionable proofs.

Respect has got to be earned .  Love must have reasons (to think otherwise is just poetry, dear, ditch it!).  So why then do we give away trust just like that?  Hot potatoes in a bargain price.

Not that I am faithless and fragile but because at one point in my life somebody broke mine.

And that was it.  Ultimatum.  Boiling point..  The great melt down.  I now promise to hold trust sacred.  Put it on a pedestal. A sublime altar.

It will always be a work in progress.  Knowing you can lose it just one time, and never get it back in its truest meaning and form.

Remember she, that young girl frolicking sunshine barefootin' on-just-after -rain-kinda-wet grass looking pretty in her rose colored glasses is gone forever.   Dead for good.

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