"The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them."

The much revered Maya Angelou pointed out to us.  But when you're as foolish an undercover over-lover as I am, you will keep rendering chances to the same person's same mistakes over and over and over again.  You pray, at each time you're called to question their integrity, that this instance will not be like the other times, they will prove you differently, otherwise; I mean, they apologised the last time, surely nobody repeatedly offends with the very same sting.  

Yet, there is an inherent inclination to believe in only the utmost good somebody can offer; you want to believe that they didn't mean it that other time, but then... What do they do?  They disappoint you again.

You keep taking the kicks.

You wave your hand, in your best nonchalant and unhurt manner, to the air beside your face, telling them, No, it's okay,  I understand.  Yes, I do.  Totally.  Next time we'll get it right.

So you walk away—fully knowing you should have said something about the hurt that is mounting up inside of you.  You should have mentioned how you can no longer accept the disappointments because you've lost count of the amount of I'll-make-it-up-to-yous they owe you.  If you did not want to cause unnecessary friction between you two then you could have, in the very least, hinted at the gnawing feeling of a threat hanging over your relationship, a threat chewing at the very fragile fabrics of what you believe to be a mutual caring, sharing and understanding.  But, no.

You swallow the salt of choked-back tears and stare your anger into the ground and you keep walking. 

Creating a distance between you that surpasses the physical; you trust a little less, laugh a little less—your love wanes...