I'm just setting, I'm just setting a trap
And I'm not pulling, no
I'm not pulling for you, you're just pulling at me
I'm not a betting man but this is a sure thing
Everything I do is bittersweet
You could tell me secrets that I'll probably repeat
I'm not trying to hurt you, I just love to speak
I guess that's how its gotta be ...
It feels like we're pulling teeth
~ Panic At The Disco! ~ BitterSweet ~
In a moment, time seems to stand still. Your life as you know it is no longer as it seemed. You are not invincible. You are now in crisis mode.
And now you have to share what you’ve been told. You have to break it down to the ones you love. Do you sugar coat it to save them the heart ache, do you pretend all is well so you don’t disappoint them. Do you do as you always do, cry in private with shame and guilt tagging along for company.
You make the decision to tell them and you can see the fracturing happen. Some have questions, lots of questions ... others need solitude, a time to process, to comprehend. But you hope that the support will be there, how can it not, they’ve known you your whole life.
But things are not as they seem ... and those that were there forever are no longer available. Their priorities change, life gets busy, life goes on ... and you just wait for the moment that they are present. Still waiting and I think, who knows, maybe they’ll miss me ...
And it is bittersweet when they are involved, when they are not absent. The four words that make you cringe but you know their intentions are pure ... “how is your health?” ... arggghhh ... beggars can’t be choosers because at least they ask. At least they have a moment when they are considering you. And yet a thought always stays in the back of my mind ...
trust actions not words ...
Don’t be fooled when care is disguised with curiosity. Understanding this all too well, in the past, becoming vulnerable only to be hurt with what was shared. We’ve all been there, so how do you decide? How do you know who to trust?
So you get hurt and you climb back into your shell. And you lick your wounds, you get ready and you put yourself out there again. You crave the human contact, but you wish you could script the conversations. You wish common sense was actually common. But you know you have no control on how things transpire, just how you deal.
You deal, you deal like you always do. You deal to survive. You deal to thrive. And you stop looking outside for affirmation. You realize it doesn’t what they say or don’t say. You realize that what they think of you is none of your business ... and so you breath a little easier, you sleep a little deeper and you know that all is well as it is because it is as it should be.