Why should I believe you?

I'm so used to all the lies, that when you tell me the truth I'm not sure if I should believe you.

You ask me how things are going, and I try to gauge if you are really interested or just trying to make polite conversation. After all, isn't that your job? To pretend to care, to resolve issues as they come up, to keep things running smoothly? Do you really want suggestions, or do they go in one ear and out the other?

But I give it a try, and I tell you how I'm feeling. You speak to me like an equal, even though we both know that's not how it is. You listen, or pretend to, and you respond in kind. Part of me feels a burden lifting, a bad energy dissipating, but the cynical part of me holds on to it for later. You know, just in case this feel-good situation does not work out.

You address my concerns, and apologize, and say all the words you are supposed to say. I smile, we laugh, things are better now, we are on good terms. I'm no longer mad and upset at you, because after all, as you explained it is not your fault.

Why should I believe you? Because you sound so sincere. Because I feel myself deflating like a balloon losing air, and it feels so nice to have someone listening to me finally. Because the things you are saying make sense.

Will this resolution last? I hope so. Only time will tell.

You tell me that suggestions are always welcome and I want to believe you.

I have to believe you, because it helps me get through another day.

Maybe things will be better now, because you tried to understand.

If nothing else, I believe that you tried. And that's something.