The Unknown

Dear Unknown,
 

I'm not afraid of you, although I should be

Your mystic is a whrilwind of "what if's" and "when will's", 

It's the nature of the world to think of you as an enemy, a foreign object that no one can pinpoint or defeat

But why should I?

The point of the unknown is to discover, to learn, to prepare

Living life as though something horrible is right around the corner is not my forteit, nor should it be

I think to myself that you can't always be bad

But I don't know that, I don't know you

But if we did - that is, if we knew you, really knew you, you would no longer exist at all

I wish I could

I wish I knew when you'd come, what you'd bring, where you were going

I wish I could travel along with you, riding the wave of amazement and saddness like the largest rollercoaster I've ever seen

But I can't

No one can

It must be lonely, all by yourself, five feet ahead and yet never really in first

Do you ever wish you were known?

Do you ever wish you could reveal yourself, lay down all your cards, just give up, if only you could be one with the people, even just for two seconds?

Would it make you happy?

Would it make the world happy?

Somehow, I know it would not, though I wish it would

You would be here, you would be known, and everyone would still - finally, they know the whole truth

And yet,

You would still be five feet ahead, still halfway in and halfway out

There can never be a world that knows exactly what's next

People will think "well, what now?"

"When will this end?"

"Why has this happened?"

And you will fade away once again

I wanted to say that I'm sorry - 

I'm sorry for all the fear

For all the speculation

For all the people who assume the worst

I'm sorry for the gap between you and us

And I hope that one day,

When all is said and done,

You can look back and think of us, think of your life, and say,

"I knew"