I don't know.
People ask me all these questions, but all I can seem to say is "I don't know."
I do not know why today was such a horrible day.
I do not know why I am so sad.
I do not know why I feel so alone all the damn time.
I do not know why you keep asking, as though one day I might suddenly be okay--happy even.
Why is it so terrible to be sad? Why is it so...wrong? Someone once told me that love and happiness is like the wind: you cannot capture it; what you must do is let it float around you, breathe it in, and dance with it. And always, it is a wonderful feeling--a wonder all by itself.
But why is it that sorrow and pain are not greeted the same? Why can't I rejoice in my sorrow and pian? Why can't I dance with them, breathing them in and relishing every second I have in their presence? What is the difference? Did you ever stop to think that perhaps the point was never about the source, but about the feeling? That maybe the words "I don't know" strip away all those stupid questions and leands you right to where you should be: in the middle of the feeling--raw and bare--without any more sillly protections?
It isn't as horrible as you think; it isn't as scary either. But don't take my word for it.
Feel. Don't think. And just breathe...
