It was always a torture opening up in front of other human beings… Potential judges, weapons… which you feed with your own trust till they use it against you.
Pencils and papers were always my friends. Silent, open, blank, unbiased, and always on my side. Sometimes they even let me weep over them and smudge their pretty pages in ink and tears…
They never spoke a word against me. Never in my favour either really, but they let me fill them with my self. What could be a better commitment than to allow a human to completely fill you up…?
These pencils wrote a quadrillion words to express my pain and these pages absorbed ’em all like they were it’s own.
But then I stopped.
I found a person similar to that. I filled him and filled him with lots of love. I filled him till there was no more space to fill. He absorbed my pain just like the pages of my diary did. And he let me cry on him too. He did more in fact. He wiped those tears away for me.
But human beings are deadly weapons. They operate by choice and mood of their own.
All you have to do is load them up with your trust and your secrets. Tell them your flaws and your mistakes. Tell them your regrets and the truth about yourself and wait to see how the gamble turns out. More often than not they will shoot it all back together at you when you will be least expecting it.
They’re the revolver and your trust, the bullets. Tell them all your secrets and fill them with your trust and it will be the same as loading up a gun with bullets. Tell them more and more till there’s no space to fill them anymore and they’ll be a wholly loaded gun pointing right at you.
Now smile and say I trust you.
Soon after you’ll hear screams and find the paramedics collecting your traces off the ground.