Whatever it is

I’ve lost my ability to believe in the fairytale.

As a realist, I should not be surprised at this. But no matter how cynical I feel I have to be for the sake of my own survival, there’s something incredibly sad about losing that one last small link to being a child, to being a teenager, to being a young adult when you still believed some things were possible. Maybe not all things, but some. And then you get older and the world rips it out of your hands like a bully after your bike. You try to put your innocence in the Witness Protection Program, but life always finds it. Reduces it. Until it’s a crumb. And then no more.

As much as I need my reason and my sensibility to make it, the idea of moving forward in my life without a sense of hope is like walking into a future with no art, no music, no color.

How do I get it back so that it keeps me going when all of my reason and sanity has run out of gas? Where do I stand without my battered generator of maybe, just maybe? Am I ever going to stop waiting for the universe to drop a bomb on me? Am I ever going to be able to look a good thing in the eye and not come up with ten thousand ways it can fail me and/or derail me? Am I ever going to weigh my peace of mind against a possibility and have the possibility win?

tune in or tune out, we will see