Et Tu, Brute?

I don't mean for this blog to be so sad all the time. I just tend to lean towards writing more when I'm upset than when I'm happy. I sometimes think that anyone who reads this must think that I'm both overtly and implicity depressed about my life. I promise that's not the case.

In fact, I love my life. I am happy much more than I am ever sad. I think this world is a grand playground of beauty and wonder, and I feel blessed with the opportunity to swing on its swings, climb its rope, slide down its winding slides. I am so endlessly grateful to be alive.

That being said, this post is going to be yet another vent, another way for me to express my current twinges of sadness and rage. I've been upset with some things these past few days as my previous post would inevitably imply. It's moved so far beyond that secret though. I'm not as angry with the action as I am with the reaction. I don't understand how people can sit back and allow horrible things to happen to them. I had always assumed that I was a push over, that I allowed people to walk all over me, but in reality, I think I'm pretty good about standing up for myself. Especially when it comes to the important things. I would never let someone get away with what this person is getting away with. NEVER. I think at this point, I just want to stay mad because I seem to be the only one who is mad, the only one who feels anything but ambivalence for it. Maybe I feel too much, but it's times like this that make me appreciate that attribute. I think it makes me human.

Yesterday, in preparation for my shower I removed my rings. It's basically the only time I ever take them off. I placed them in their usual spot next to the sink. My father's moving company was lugging his stuff up and down the stairs as I got ready for school. Even over the sound of the shower I could hear them clunking around. After getting dressed in my room, I returned to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put on my rings. Two of the three were missing. The two important ones of course. I didn't want to be one of those people who accuses the hired help of stealing so I spent the next hour tearing my bathroom and my room apart, thinking I might have misplaced them, although deep down I knew I hadn't. So now my rings are gone. Now some man from a moving company has my engraved class ring and my rather expensive twentieth birthday present from my mom sitting in his pocket and there's nothing I can do about it. I feel so taken advantage of. It hadn't even occured to me that a stranger in my house would take something that I hold so dear. I wear those rings everyday and my hands feel naked now without them. I'm reminded every second that they're gone.

It seems I've been naive in putting faith in people. It's caused me nothing but upset these past few days. I don't want to be jaded by it. I don't want to be the kind of person who becomes suspicious of everyone around them. I want to be able to trust strangers and friends to be civil and kind and human. I haven't lost faith in trust, but my skepticism has certainly heightened, and for that, I won't really be able to fully forgive those who have changed the way I look at the world. They've robbed me of more than rings and serenity. They've robbed me of a kind of innocence that I won't ever be able to get back. I'm just feeling rather betrayed these days, rather let down. I guess it's an important life lesson, just not one that I ever wanted to learn.