the truth is, i don’t.

one of my old friends used to contend that the ultimate unknowable was fire. i don’t know whether he was wasted when he would wax poetically for hours on the topic — i never really understood half of what he rabbitted on about — but as i get older, i tend to disagree with his assessment. frankly, i think the ultimate unknowable is what’s in other people’s minds.

i’m a girl who appreciates resolution, yet there are many questions in life which will never have answers. it’s like those movies that end on an unfinished note: sure, they’re deep. but i hate them, just the same. no one is ever obligated to explain anything to me, i’m aware, but so many things puzzle me incessantly. i probably missed my calling as a journalist; i always want to ask tough questions, but in real life, you’re simply not allowed to do so unless it’s with someone with whom you’re very close. and even then, sometimes not.

so tonight, i was just thinking about some of the mysteries i will never understand: why this friend stopped talking to me, why that perfect couple divorced, and so on. there are more global questions that stymie me as well about people whom i don’t even know, celebrities even. maybe i wouldn’t like the answers if i knew them, but i prefer the awful truth to psychic tumbleweeds.

until then, i’ll just live in suspended belief.