If I were an analyst with some secret agency, which I am not—full disclosure, never have been or will be—so you can use this posting in court against me should I be misrepresenting myself.
Back to not being an analyst . . . with a plus 90% certainty, I’m confident that you, dear reader, have either spoken the following words or have had them spoken to you:
“I can’t explain it. You’re just going to have to trust me.”
Remember? Sure you do. It put you in a tight spot.
If you were the one speaking, remember how earnest and honest you felt and how much you so wanted to be believed?
If you were the one listening, can you recall how hard (or not) it was to bring yourself into trusting without knowing the reason? It’s a hard choice.
Here’s the sticky wicket though:
trusting half-way isn’t much of a real thing . . . it’s like trusting somewhat (which reads: not much really) . . . or trusting with this subject, reaction or arena of my life, but not the others . . . like I’ll trust you with my emotions but not my wallet, or I’ll trust you with my body but not my cell phone . . . or lap top . . . or whatever else you’ve encrypted . . .
. . . that sort of iffy trust . . . wet tissue trust . . . the kind that falls apart when you go to use it for anything real . . .
Here’s another curious consideration. Some of the eyeballs scanning these lines are not looking for truths, but for arguments. It’s understandable. Not particularly helpful, but normal enough.
When and as you spend your time arguing, the underlying issue of trust between us is perpetually avoided.