Consequences of a story

Sometimes it takes a good while to understand how much something affected you.

I hope this is a short story. No need to dwell.

I once was with a fucking asshole who hurt me a lot. We all have that story. I’m no different.

This person was my friend and I trusted him. Apparently he had no consideration for me and decided not to be with me. That was not the problem — I accept that some people don’t like me. It was the way it was done that left a mark.

I thought that I was over it. I really did. And in some ways I am. It just happens that some part of my unconscious isn't.

I see myself stopping. Doubting me and others more often than before. I wonder that if these people are acting this way, surely they will ending up doing the same that he did. I feel I can’t trust anyone and that makes me sad. It makes me sad that one fucking asshole is still defining parts of my life because he didn't have the balls to look me in the eyes and tell me he didn't want me.

So where do we go from here? Do we risk? — When all alarms are sounding until our head hurts? Or do we back off, retract and go our own life as if nothing happened?

I wonder. I wonder how does one truly move on.

image from here

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