You are afraid

I want to hate you. I want to feel like you are my enemy and must be destroyed. I want there to be some sort of Divine Retribution because you are fearful. But I can't. I'm too curious. Too damn curious...

I saw you decide two days ago, and saw the fear spread like fire, and I saw it grow stronger today when you voiced what everyone had come to believe. You found reasons, and you were compelled to state them. You were also compelled to point out my disappointment. And to prevent me from discussing my thoughts because clearly everyone agreed with you.

Of course they did. They made the same decision you did, and for the same reasons, and they needed your justifications much more than my analysis and understanding. There is comfort in the fear of the masses. And you have the masses on your side.

You also see my dependence on psychoactive medication as weakness. I don't know if it is or not, or if it is any more a weakness than living in fear so much that when you have a chance to do something you clearly want to, you choose not to, and use your fear and the fear of others for comfort.

It would be convenient if I could hate you, but I'm compelled to understand, as irrationally as you are compelled to mistake fear for knowledge.