The Elephant in the Room

The elephant in the room. Literally. Figuratively. Oops, maybe I gave too much away.

For a while now, I’ve felt like there was an elephant in the room. I shove it under my bed every so often, sometimes in the closet, never near a mirror. Mirrors reveal too much. And I’m not speaking of only myself. Everything is shown in a reflection, everything. Sometimes distorted depending on which way it’s looked at. 

I think that’s why I haven’t written with as much substance for a while now—give or take a few posts.

Trust is a really big issue for me. I don’t trust a lot of people. I’m an open book about most things unless I haven’t figured something out in my life. I’m rather reserved until I’m mad, then I’m an untamed animal. This only happens once every blue moon. Unless you’re my boyfriend, then you experience this more frequently. (If you’re reading this, I’m sorry.) On top of me not trusting often. I’m also overly hyper-aware of people and how ones actions could affect their life. So, I find myself constantly wracking me brain trying to do the right things, say the right things, keep my cool but mainly try to take care of others before myself. I think I learn that last trait from my mother. But I find that not everyone shares those same traits. Which confuses me. And hurts me.

There it is. The elephant in the room.

Hurt. I feel hurt. betrayed. And more than a little sad.

I’ve had friendship breakups before. They are always messy. Especially the ones that so much trust is invested. Maybe too much. Most likely.  Friends often times tell me how guarded I am.  So, I give more. I trust more. More times than not, in my opinion, I get the short end of the stick. It is just a reality.

But what hurts the most is when you’ve placed these people as lifers. They aren’t just the day-to-day, out of convenience because there is no one else. (Although, maybe this was their thought.) They are the ones that you picture in your wedding, standing next to you because your trust them with sharing this happiness with you and witness these intense life moments. And in the blink of an eye, that future memory fades and morphs into another future memory without. 

I think that adds to the hurt.

I speak fond memories of you. Often too.

They make me sad.

Maybe it’s the reason I don’t like elephants in the room so much anymore.

I changed to giraffes.