What if I told you a secret? Gave you a piece of me that no one else had? A piece like Venetian glass. Fragile and delicate. What would you do?
Trust is such a curious thing. You either do. Or you don’t. A choice at every single point on the path. Can it be broken and fixed? Or do those fine lines still show, where the broken pieces have been stitched back together.
Once I choose to trust, the bond is fierce. Loyal. But fuck it up, and I’m gone. It’s the only way I know how to be.