As Is

Like a beaten dog, hunger has us eating out of your hands but we never forget. Watch closely. Our legs are ready to run, our eyes cautious, and our heads down. Those who have new dogs probably have no idea what I'm talking about. But those of us who've had the old models, the ones not gently used by their previous owner, know better.

There is one person after which we are never the same. All future owners are shortchanged. With a slow, lumbering walk, we gesture at fetch. We pretend your head scratches get our leg going. But if you make any sudden movements, you bet we're running for the corner. 

Trust is a toothpick bridge. It can never be repaired. We have it, and then suddenly we don't. And everyone pays the price. We are not adept at trusting. It is rarely rewarded and often punished. It is a primary, load-bearing column made out of paper mache.  

At this point, I usually make a turn. After having laid out all the fucked up things neatly using metaphor and simile, here is where I suggest that despite the aforementioned perils, we can, through sheer force of will, overcome and reinvent ourselves. Followed by a pretentious declaration like, "Yes, these things have happened to me, and I accept them and move on. I am made stronger by them and my character is richly deepened" or some shit like that. 

And most of the time I mean it. But not today. Not about this.

Trust is as fragile as it is essential. It takes a careless axe to topple, and a god to rebuild. When people say their heart is broken, I always assume they mean their trust. 

We are buying used love, as is. 

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