Trust used to be a much easier thing.

Trust used to be about me; that when I trusted someone, it reflected my own virtue. Trust used to be something I would have invested in someone - anyone - unless the person overtly indicated that he did not want to be trusted. Even for one who betrayed that trust unintentionally, it would not have been entirely too difficult to choose to keep trusting him. Trust used to be a state of being, not a privilege you accorded to someone who was deemed worthy of it.

I’m afraid I might be losing the virtue of trust. When I can trust a person only because he has shown himself to be trustworthy, then my trust ceases to be a virtue. When I trust people only because they have earned it and demonstrated beyond reasonable doubt that they will do me no harm, my trust no longer speaks of who I am as a person.

I badly want to - need to - struggle to uphold the old virtue of trust. It is difficult when your trust has been trodden upon and when you’ve spent almost a lifetime dodging political bullets and watching people pulling vindictive triggers. People you admired. People you trusted. Trust has become too vulnerable a virtue to embrace, even if it’s right.

To have to convert trust from a virtue into a tool for emotional survival is too unfortunate a thing for one to have to do. It must not happen. Thus, how a betrayed one moves on from here is a consideration of consequence.