leave it to me.

ah, betrayal. the familiar feeling of being stabbed in the back. all because you were too trusting. you let the soft side of you take over, and you permitted someone to get a little too close. again. and then you get even closer. and you tell them things. you tell them secrets. you tell them opinions. you tell them almost everything. you share problems, and you share secrets, and you share shoes and clothes and everything. and you trust them to keep your secrets. you trust them to be trustworthy. you tell them when your'e hurting, and why if you know. you tell them your dreams and what you're afraid of. you tell them what you want in life, and what you want out of life. and why you want what you want, and why you do what you do. and how it makes you feel when this or that happens, and how it makes you feel when this or that doesn't happen. and what you think of certain people, and what you think of certain friends. and who you like, and who likes you, and who said what to who. and you trust them. oh, you trust them. trust them with your trust. you trust them to be there for you, and to help you through. you trust them to be trustworthy; and to lend a helping hand, or an ear for when you can't stop yourself from speaking (or when you absolutely MUST tell them something); or a hug for when you can't stop the sadness or the tears, or maybe just because. you trust them with your heart, because thats what friends are for. you trust them with your life, because you'd be willing to do that much for them. you open up your heart, you show a little bit of your inner soul. you let them see you in your saddest moments, you know the ones. the days where you're so ridiculously depressed that you can't think a single straight though. the times when you cry so hard that your whole body hurts and your lungs feel ready to explode. you let them hug you and hold you together while you're crying for whatever reason. you let them know that your heart is all cracked and jagged. you let them see you like no one ever sees you (in your dumbo the elephant pajamas, rocking out to your favorite songs, using a brush or a comb or a bottle as a microphone; showing off your moves even though you can't dance). you even tell them untold stories of your past. and how you trust them! you speak freely because you're certain that they'll keep it within, that they'll never tell. it's safe. And then. one day. you find out they've been talking behind your back, that they've been spreading rumors, that they've been telling lies, they've been flaunting your secrets, showing off your most personal thoughts, laughing at your fears, trashing your soul, mocking your every move. and it hits. it hits your soft spots and your poor darling nerves. and it hurts. oh, it hurts. it breaks your healing heart into 8,357,259 pieces, and as if that isn't enough, rip up those bits a few more times and trample them into the ground. just, you know, for good measure. and you remember what it's like to be betrayed. your back remembers how it feels to be stabbed, and your heart remembers the pain of being wrenched out and torn apart into those eight million, three hundred and fifty seven thousand, two hundred and fifty nine (you counted!) little shards. "well," you think. "at least it's familiar territory." but that doesn't stop the pain. nothing stops the pain. and you want to scream or cry or stab the wall or kill something or break something or disappear, or maybe everything all at once. and then the tears start flowing, and you try your hardest to stop them and hold them in, because you're a big girl, and big girls don't cry. and you feel like you can never trust anyone ever again, and you tell yourself that you will never let this happen again, even though that's what you said last time. and you want to give up. you want to so badly. to just sit down and say you're done. or maybe fall asleep forever, or maybe fall off a bridge. by accident, of course. but you know that somewhere, someone needs you. you know it. and so you hold on. and you lift your shoulders and your heavy head. and you try your best to stay strong. to stand tall. not for your sake, because that just wont work anymore, but for theirs. for that someone, somewhere, you summon up some strength you didn't know you had, and hang in there, and you don't let yourself crumble.
all i want from my friends is honesty, loyalty, and trustworthiness.
and in my darkest of days, a little bit of love. is that so much to ask? is it really too much to desire?
leave it to me to find the perfect friends who find the perfect ways to break my fragile heart.


you'd think i'd learn my lesson the first time. or maybe the second. the third? through stories and movies and books? nope. kindness always gets the best of me, they always find a way.
and then there i am, putting my heart back together, gluing some pieces, pasting others, taping here and there. duct tape fixes everything, right? and i apologize to it, try to tell myself  i won't let it hurt like that again, even though i know that i'm not very good at protecting my own feelings from people who are close. i wonder if maybe my heart will one day decide that its had enough, and stop beating on me. i wonder at how it hasn't happened yet. there's no such thing as morphine for emotion. I'm sorry, heart. i really am.