Trust...or lack thereof

So I met this guy today.
His name’s Jeremy, one of Jenny’s friends and we all went to eat.
He’s a very insightful person. Very keen. He frightens me just a little.
He talked to Jenny (and, offhandedly, me) for what seemed like ever about the type of person he thought she was. They haven’t known each other for that long, from what I gathered, and he was talking about what he thought of her when they met.
He seems to be able to read people well. It’s disconcerting.
His analyzation of Jenny got me to thinking about how I am.
I determined this.
I’m not a very trusting person. I don’t have a whole slew of close friends. Veritable dozens of acquaintances, but few people I would out and out call “friend.”
The thing is, you have to work to be my friend. I know that sounds horrible, but it’s kind of true. I probably don’t let people in enough. You have to try to get to know me before I’ll put the slightest bit of trust in you. And I do mean try. You have to actively pursue me and my friendship. I need to know that you’re willing to invest time and effort into getting to know me. I need to know that you actually care. I need to be secure in the knowledge that you are not some passerby and that you have the intent to stick around. I need to know this before I let you in.
This is a fact about me, but not one that I generally spread around. It happens whether the people around me know it or not. Usually, honestly, whether I know it or not. But I got the sense that this Jeremy either had already (unlikely) or could easily (possibly) glean this little tidbit of information about me. And I don’t know this person, so the thought makes me real uncomfortable.
There are parts of me that everyone gets to see. There are parts of me that only my friends see. Then there are the parts that are strictly between God and me, because I don’t trust anyone with everything. There is no one person on this earth I feel I could trust with every part of me, no one I feel that comfortable with.
Jeremy made me think about why.
I know people with trust issues. I know lots of people with lots of issues. The difference between them and me is they all have good reason. Every person I’ve ever spoken to about trust or lack thereof has had some prior horrendous experience (or two, or several,) that has made him leery of trusting even the people closest to him.
This is understandable.
I, on the other hand, have had no such experience. I have not been deeply wounded by the betrayal of such absolute trust. I’ve not so much as been scratched. I have placed my absolute trust in absolutely no one, and so, have avoided being burned. Call it an exercise in preemptive self-preservation. If I let no one in, I can (and have) altogether avoid the heartache which I have not (yet) personally experienced, but been witness to far too many times.
I’ve seen what trust does. Scratch that. What misplaced trust does. I’ve seen the damage it causes. I am always the person who sees. I have always been the one who has to clean up the mess it leaves behind. I have always had to be the shoulder to cry on. I have always had to be the one who was ready to talk about it any time and every time, day or night. I have always had to be the person who’s there no matter what, rain or shine, up or down, for better or for worse, until your suffering doth plague me to death.
I have not been hurt by a trust betrayed, but I have witnessed far too man low points from far too many loved ones due to far too many breaches in a trust placed far too willingly and far too deeply within one entirely undeserving of such.
So why would I want to?
Having cleaned up the mess more times than I can count in my short life span, why on earth would I desire to place my trust in anyone? Though my experiences are little more than secondary, they have all been quite traumatic enough. I cannot imagine what it must have been like for those on the receiving end.
Is that enough?
Is the sight of such pain – from the outside looking in, fearing the intensity of the inside of that pain – enough to dissuade me from taking such a risk? Is learning from the mistakes of others to keep from making my own logical? Rational? Acceptable?
For right now, yes.
Right now, the fear of being in the center of the very mess I’ve cleaned so very many times is something of a paralyzing agent. I expect I’ll feel differently one day. I even hope so. To trust someone completely is a component of love and I hope to achieve that one day as well.