There is something to be said about the internal qualities of Trust. Trust is clear and true, Trust is strong and kind, Trust is righteous and sure.
But Trust cannot stand alone.
If ever there were a time when Trust was needed, it would be now. Trust would be one of the only things that could keep anyone from going over the edge of the world and never being heard from again. Trust is the offspring of Hope, and Hope is the partner to Love. Love; how lovely it is. Love is patient, Love is kind, Love is not jealous. Love does not take into account wrongs suffered. Love rejoices in the truth. Love hopes.
So if I, a human, have trust in another, be it human or otherwise, then I have hope as well, and with hope, a semblance of love. Though these things may not be perfect, I would more than strive to make them so, for in love, there is no wrong.
God grant strength for me to Trust, Hope and Love.
Scenes flash through my head of the night before; some of them have sound, some of them don't. Some of them are filled with questions, others brimming with life, and the last few overflowing with emotion.
Are human beings inherently evil beings? What is it in us that causes us to refrain from one another's trust and love? I admit, I have done the same thing to others, as they have done to me; I only wish I could have realized that at the time...
'I have told you everything about me; there is nothing you don't know,' the words fly from my mouth -- attempted daggers at his heart, but he only swats them away with his hands as he places them on my shoulders and grips. 'Is there?' he asks me; 'Have you told everyone or anyone everything?'
No, of course I haven't, but I don't realize it in time...
I look away from his face in the darkness. I can't stand this feeling -- my hands are gripping tighter at my sides, but I don't think he notices. 'Do you love me?' he asks, his voice soft, penetrating. I mutter some words. 'I can't hear you,' he says, and then, harder, 'do you love me?'
'More than words.'
It is the first fight we've ever had, but could it even be called that? From one point of view, I was backed into a corner and threatened, and from another, I was the one that started it. I'm sure I could count at least a handful of reasons why it wasn't my fault; a handful of instances that show I was unwillingly put through it, but what good would that do? The only other person who knows enough to know may never admit to it; what good would it do if he did?
My heart is broken, and I can hardly stand it. I know that now there is a choice I have to make. The path before me lies in twain. Do I descend and wait for the tentative chance that he may come and show me the way back, or do I ascend and mend my own heart, building up around it walls I never dreamed would exist between he and I? Either road is dangerous.
It is the first fight we've ever had; he is my best friend.
I pray it will not be the last.
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