Broken

I recently re-discovered these words in my journal under a January entry. A long time ago, but I remembered what it was like.

Distrust is ugly. It starts with a tightening in my chest, a widening of my radar. No wild accusations forming in my head; at least, not yet. Just watching warily from the parapets.

But I start to wonder which of the ones I’ve already let in are Trojan horses. The suspicions gather form, build a sickness in my gut.

Jai and his psychological games, reducing people to mind tricks. Was that all I was? Loup taking what he needed, always demanding more. Spineless shit. And Gar. Gar started it. Cheating on me. Just another cunt for his pleasure. Fuck. That fucking hurts.

The memories sting, and I can’t trust that they all didn’t just want something from me. Beyond the reach of reason now, the venom reaches a peak.

So what does Khui want from me. I don’t know. Was it just the pictures. Fuck. What about me? I had so much riding on you. What about me? Don’t fucking touch me. Leave me alone. All of you. You’re all the same.

Can’t trust the answers they give, the support they offer. Because no matter what they say, the vicious little voices argue that they would say that.

Then, the anger and resentment abruptly shatter; all I am left with is this crushing hurt. What about me? How did I get it so wrong? And in that moment, I would give anything to make it stop.

Even being poly.