Rambling

My kitten, Amelie, is a very loving cat. She'll jump on anyone's lap and want to be cuddled. She'll chase you around wanting attention. And in return, she'll curl her paws around your hand and lick and purr. Amelie will sleep by your ear and gently purr until you fall asleep. She's very reciprocal.

Yet, she won't roll on her back and show her belly to anyone but me. She's loving, but she holds back. She's affectionate, but she's not completely comfortable 'showing all her cards'.

In that way, she and I are very much alike. I am loving, generous and giving. But I close off parts of myself. It takes a lot of trust for me to open up to a person. I feel vulnerable and raw when I do. And I don't like feeling vulnerable. I feel as though I'm giving the person I trust ammunition that can be used in the future against me. If I keep things close to my chest then I'm safe from the inevitable pain that will come later when the person I trusted so much uses my vulnerabilities, my insecurities against me.

But it doesn't stop me from trying. It doesn't stop me from trying to find the good in all people. And it doesn't stop me from trying to remember the good in me.

What it does do though, and this is the really sad part, is close the door to the person who took my trust and pissed on it. And that's depressing because obviously I really trusted that person, really cared about that friendship.

“We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy”
~Walter Anderson