On Trust

Trust me, said the grandfather who pushed him unexpectedly into the deep end of the cold pool in order to learn how to swim, laughing as he struggled not to drown.

Trust me, said the grandfather, who caught him smoking and forced him to chain-smoke the rest of the pack to teach him a lesson.

Trust me, said the mother whose love he never earned.

Trust me, said the uncle who doesn’t trust in return.

Trust me, said the aunt who made fun of him and wanted to sell him out.

Trust me, said the cousin who pranks him ruthlessly in front of the whole school.

Trust me, said the brother who looks at the birthday wishlist and decides on something else he prefers, knowing his brother does not (nor the store or the sales clerk for that matter).

Trust me, said the teachers who turned a blind eye to bullying or even joined in.

Trust me, said the bosses who persecuted him.

Trust me, said the coworkers who sucker punched him.

Trust me, said friends who turned on him and teased him subtly.

Trust me, they said, after betraying him time and again.

“Trust me, I would love to trust you,” he said. “But time after time you have given me every reason not to”.

“You won’t be hurt by all of this, now will you,” they probed, more worried about his reaction than how he was actually feeling.

“Of course I’m hurt, and you would be too. This pain does not dissipate overnight, especially when you do this over and over and over again”.

“Well surely you will be discreet about this, won’t you," they implored, worried about how they would appear in front of the PTA.

“I will be as discreet about this as you have been about every nook and cranny of my private life,” he replied. “I offer a fair exchange in treatment.  Better than fair, in fact.  I have taken a lot and will only expose a fraction”.

“I want to trust you, and will, when you give me the time and the reason to,” he promised.