Lost and Found

I lost a friend recently.  

Maybe that's inaccurate.

I lost my ability to trust a friend recently.  Let's start there.

I've known that person a long time.  We've been a support to one another through a couple of nasty things.  That person is precious to me.  

Then came the lie.  Now I don't know how to feel. 

It's hard for me to trust, anyway.  Whether it is fair or not, I frequently realize that I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the stick that hides behind the carrot.

Of course, things broken can be repaired much of the time.  The Japanese sometimes even mend precious vessels with gold making something that could be seen as loss glorious.  My own multitudinous scars are things I see as badges of survival.  They aren't pretty, to be sure, but there is a pride in knowing that what made them didn't unmake me.

Sometimes, though, there is too much damage for something to be salvagable.  When trust breaks, gold can't fuse the pieces.  I am not sure what can.  Maybe time.  I'll have to see....

Decisions, Decisions

So many choices.  I wish sometimes that life wasn't an endless stream of choices.  I know that's foolish because the ability to choose is precious, but sometimes I feel like my mind gets blisters and calluses because it's turning things with sharp edges over and over trying to find where they fit.

Right now, I have one of the biggest of decisions to make.  Do I stay or do I go?  Pro and con lists do not help; they balance.  People I love and trust are also arrayed on both sides of the issue.  

I stand here looking around, and I love this place so much it is almost a physical pain.  I love every part, the physical setup, the changes I've made to make it my own, precious people I have met.  I love the potential, the what it could be.

Sometimes, though, the what is crushes me, weighs down on me like that pile of stones they used in Salem, one burden at a time until I feel like I can't even breathe.

Am I still doing any good?  If I stay, will I keep doing any good?  Does it really matter if I'm here or not, or am I just a replaceable cog in a massive machine?  If this particular gear slips, will the harmony of the engine even shift?

I feel like I'm in the long dark night of this particular portion of my soul.  With something as important as this is to me, being uneasy in it affects all else.  

I wish I had some clarity.