I try to grasp the source of my sadness with my two hands. It’s like an elusive butterfly that camouflages itself to any background. I see it’s contour fluttering away before my eyes, but I can never capture it. I do wonder again, is there anything actually wrong? Perhaps in my desperation to expose this metaphorical butterfly - I’m instead perpetuating the problem.
Part of me is stubborn. I refuse to lose my innocence. I want to continue giving, and loving people - even when I’m the most desperate for that love myself.
As I say these words, it makes me a little sullen as to how I could have fallen so deep into this predicament. It was always my love for humanity that gave me the strength to stand up and keep marching. But I’m having hell of a time seeing the best in people anymore.
(Originally Published January 22, 2018)