Shirley is a funny woman. Really. Someone had recently noted that she uses the phrase, “Well this is it!”, a lot. It’s usually for situations of agreeableness, and spoken with iambic dimetre, emphasized on every other syllable.

Shirley’s in denial about the whole matter.

There are always news reports and stories of mass murderers, pedophiles, rapists, sociopaths whom no one ever suspects. In my head I always think that it doesn’t matter how someone may be perceived on the outside, that anyone could be the next notorious psychopath. Shirley, however, is one of the few people I would have a very difficult time believing as being able to hurt anyone. Some may think that it’s sad to be so cynical, so untrusting of almost anyone, but that’s just the way my worldview has developed.

Put simply, she’s an innocent person. Not innocent in the ignorant sense, which is something that I had only recently begun to distinguish, but innocent in the good, wholesome, true, honourable sense. I realize that this makes me trust her about as much as I trust my other friends. I honestly feel like I can divulge almost anything to her without worrying about being judged or misinterpreted.

Yet there are things that I don’t let her know, because I firmly believe that our working relationship isn’t worth the risk, if there just happened to be something she found out that she couldn’t deal with.

So doesn’t this mean that I don’t truly trust her?