The only concrete reason I have not to trust him is because of what the others did.
The ones who came before him.
Well that doesn’t seem much like concrete does it?
Those houses were built out of straw and bullshit.
Cheated and lied, broken so bad, you made a vow never get mad, you play the game though it’s unfair, they’re all the same, who can compare
The worst thing I ever did was allow other people into my relationship.
That isn’t really the worst thing,
Fuck…that just took my brain on an ugly journey.
I don’t know the worst thing I ever did. There is a cage match happening right now in my head.
But allowing people outside of my relationships to weigh in on them was bad mmmm’kay?
I went for brunch and then coffee with my girl.
She said she wanted to get all CSI on my mister, she’s afraid I am going to get hurt.
She is a realist and I am not, especially with men.
First you lose trust, then you get worried.
I have a bad habit of being color blind to red flags.
I have been blindsided many a time. Because I am blind.
First you get hurt, then you feel sorry.
My personally philosophy has always been to trust someone until I have a reason not to.
I feel like that might not be the best way to go.
There comes a time, in a short line, turn it around, get a rewrite
I thought last night of making a catfish Tinder account. Catch him doing what I think he might be doing.
Which is spending a substantial portion of his limited free time going on random dates with other random girls.
Both of us. Him for hypothetically doing this and me for hypothetically regressing.
Scumbags, both of us.
As if I would be able to hold it together long enough to a) make a date with him under someone else’s name and b) walk out of said ‘date’ with any semblance of dignity or grace.
I would be a wreck, in public.
Not that girl anymore.
I am too lazy to stalk anyone. Lying makes me choke, literally.
I played out the scenario in my head, sadly it felt pretty real and it hurt a lot.
Why in god’s name would I kick the hornets’ nest?
If I go back on Tinder it will be to go on a real date with a new boy or a half dozen of them.
The flags are admittedly varying shades of pink.
In my head he has already been downgraded from boo to bootycall.
I already know he’s married. No, not like that. I’m an asshole but not that big of an asshole.
He’s married to his job.
I keep rationalizing everything. I agreed to this, well not exactly this but I knew he worked a lot. I’ve waited longer for less, but that is wearing thin as the time gets longer I am getting next to nothing.
Flying like a cannonball falling to the earth, heavy as a feather when you hit the dirt.
How am I the lucky one, I did not deserve to wait around forever when you were there first.
Feathers float and so will I.
(Italics = Cold War Kids, First)