I want to trust you, but I don’t. I want to believe you have my best interests in mind, just like I do for you. I want to believe you don’t have a hidden agenda, motivations that are completely self-serving, or something going on behind the scenes I would be crushed by if I knew about it. I want to believe the good feelings I have when you are being kind to me will still feel good a month from now. A year from now. I want to believe you’ve told me the whole story and that I won’t make discoveries later that make me cry and feel the brutal weight of regret. I want to believe I won’t lie in bed
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