Not Every Colour Was Real

At first, I believed in something real a friendship that felt honest, steady, true. But I overlooked a quiet truth: how easily people can pretend, how softly someone can wear the mask of a victim. I ask myself now did things have to change, or was I simply too much? Too kind, too open, too willing to see the good in you? Maybe my optimism became a burden to you. Maybe my way of loving rooted in faith, rooted in God refused to search for darkness in your light. And now I wonder, why do I question the love I have for my Creator just because I misjudged His creation? Your coldness I learned to endure it, to excuse it, to shrink myself around it. But the truth is, my mind has not been safe in your presence. They say what is broken can be fixed, but we are no longer children. We act with awareness now. We choose our actions, and we carry their weight. I will not blame you for everything, and I will not blame myself for loving you as a friend. I have forgiven you truly. But forgiveness does not mean closeness. So I choose distance. Not out of hate, but out of healing. Because I have learned some people change like chameleons, and I can no longer lose myself trying to understand their colours.