That Kind Of Trust

I don't know where this week went. It's not like I had a whole lot going on to make the time fly by. I just spent the whole week inside my head, in places I really don't want to be. I think seeing "K" again sent me spiraling into memories of "what could have been." Most of the time was spent with the dark wings beating about my head, sending me further down into the abyss that I have been trying to climb out of.

You see "J" was quite a wonderful and amazing person. I remember times when I would be sitting in my living room, and she would come up and curl up beside me and start burrowing into my brain. She wasn't the kind of person that would wait for you to take "your walls" down, oh no, she was coming inside those walls, ready or not. She had an amazing way of asking pointed and deeply personal questions, in a manor that wouldn't let you evade or take cover, but with a gentle touch that allowed you to let go of your fears. It didn't take long before I stopped trying to evade and really enjoyed those conversations. She would also show you just as much of herself, to equal the things that she dug out of you. She could instill a trust in you, unlike anyone I've encountered before.

She decided one day that she needed a haircut, and I was going to be the one to do it! I really did try to get out of doing it because I know how much "the hair" means to most women. She wasn't going to take no for an answer though, and pulled a chair out into the middle of my kitchen and handed me the scissors. I think that is the most my hands have shaken in a very long time, and that's not a good thing when you are trying to cut someone's hair. It turned out pretty good though and I didn't even draw any blood.

I would like to say that her ability to create a trusting relationship was reserved for her boyfriend, but it wasn't. I know of quite a few people who inhabited my bar that required her insights on a daily basis. Many would come down, quite distraught over something in their lives, specifically looking for her guidance. If she weren't there, they would turn to me next. I guess they expected that since I was her boyfriend, I must have been able to wield the same magic she did, that I could also, somehow, make everything seem all right. I never had any kind of a talent such as that, to give the perfect advice that would help people fix their lives. I would just use my bartender abilities to quietly listen to their problems, and hoped that she would show up soon. It was hard to see those people when they came down to the bar after the accident, seeming so much like children lost in the woods, with no one to guide them out.

I have to admit that I grew dependent on her disarming manor as well, her ability to see past the camouflage, her ability to look deep inside me and never bat an eye at anything she found. She saw me at my best and at my worst and accepted both with equal happiness. When the heart finds that kind of trust, which seems to be so very rare these days, it becomes attached very quickly. The kind of trust I hope some day I can find again.