I can not see it. Sometimes I try. Sometimes I look away. Sometimes I close my eyes, hold my breath and count to ten. Always, I can not see it.
I was once told if you stare into the night sky long and hard enough, you can glimpse it. I found inky blackness, brilliant stars, and blinking lights. Still, I could not see it.
I was once told if you look into yourself deeply enough, you can uncover it. I found inky thoughts, brilliant ideas, and blinking emotions. Still, I could not see it.
I try to hold it. I try to control it. I try to mold it into a shape I find appealing. It slips through my hands. I can not see it.
I know you want me to show it to you. I can not shine a light upon it for you. I can only tell you that it is there. Unavoidable. Unapologetic. Invisible.
Sometimes you just have to trust – trust that when you race into it, it will not destroy you.
