I trust you. From what I collect, you are to be trusted. I recognize that I cannot control your actions or the thoughts that motivate them, nor the circumstances we may encounter—though that is not to say that I’d want to, in any sense. It’s just that, beyond the vague blend of interactions we share, what we call influence, all we have is trust … trust that we are communicated about our expectations; trust that we are acting in each other’s best interest … and trust is crucial! It is good and well that we value trust, but no amount of trust promises true understanding among different perspectives. No amount of communication, no matter how articulate and pure, can reconcile the mystic wall between distinct points of view. So, what have we—an opportunity to practice trusting the reliability of trust founded in imperfect understanding? Truthfully, trust seems more like a faith in pleasantly, predictable coincidence; a choice to avoid observation of the endless proximate possibilities, no matter their likelihood. Trust seems like the product of willful ignorance, though probably, an utmost important ignorance in maintaining healthy relations. When I say, “I trust you,” I’m really just reaffirming the faith that our circumstances will align favorably. I think you should know this definition of trust.
I trust you.