Not because the person is bad. But because trust is like a thin glass ball that you hold in your hands, and if it suddenly slips, then the pieces will never be collected.

I think about this when I lie in my bed in the evening and listen to someone laughing somewhere behind the wall. Maybe they have their own little life there, their own jokes and dinners for two. And I have only my thoughts and the light from the night light 🌙 And so I catch myself feeling that sometimes it's not that I'm betrayed that's scary, but that I myself will one day take a step from which someone else will suffer. Because I'll get tired, confused, or just want to save myself.

This is probably the kind of adult honesty that no one warns you about. When you understand that we are all capable of pain, betrayal, and one day becoming strangers to those closest to us. And this makes you ache inside, as if it were a little cold, even if you are wearing a warm sweater.

Sometimes it seems to me that loneliness teaches you to be careful. You don’t rush headlong into the pool like before, you first check — is there even water there? 😅 But along with this caution comes sadness: what if I never take the risk, and end up with this glass ball of mine that I’m afraid to give to someone?

And yet, no matter how hard I try to hide these thoughts, they come back again. Maybe this is my way of talking to myself. Asking myself questions that I don’t know the answers to. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if someone were sitting next to me at that moment, listening and just smiling. Maybe then these thoughts wouldn't be so heavy 💭

And for now I'm writing this post, as if I'm leaving a small mark on the world. Maybe someone will read it and recognize themselves. Or maybe they'll just scroll past. But that makes me feel better. I still believe that one day someone will take my glass ball carefully, without dropping it. And maybe I'll stop being afraid of both betrayal and my own choice.

Ira