The plight of the dreamer.

I think that’s part of the problem.  Is it ironic that I am an idealist? 

Not so much, when you think about it.  Cynicism is born from disappointment.  At some point it became easier to scoff than to stand behind my own dreams.  At least this way I can save face.  To say I have no faith in humanity is not necessarily true.  It would be more accurate to say…the faith I have for humanity is like the beaten wife.  I always go crawling back, even when logic says not to.

I would like nothing more than to have no faith left.  No hope.  It would be comfortable to believe that ALL humanity is flawed, and rotten, and not worth saving.  They wouldn’t save me, after all.  But there are some people, and not many, but some…who are good.  Compassionate, caring, courageous, and lots of other positive adjectives, not all of which start with C…

I have been disappointed so often and so severely that sometimes, it’s hard to see the light in anyone.  But when I do…it’s both the most beautiful and horrible thing.  Beautiful because I am not alone, and horrible because I’ll be let down again.

But then, that’s the plight of the dreamer.