This is just something I was inspired to write. It's up to you to figure out who the speaker is.
We're all looking for something, aren't we? We're looking for love, for a reason to keep getting up on those dreadful Monday mornings, for meaning in the bleakness of a rainy day when nothing is going right. We're searching, and most of the time, we don't really know what for. We're simply wandering around, and we have no plan and no directions to even begin finding answers to all the questions we simply cannot articulate. I see the scorn in your eyes and in your heart; you are not as faithful as you would like to believe. You know you create more destruction than beauty. You know you hate more than you love.
Is that the way it's supposed to be? I do not believe I am the one to ask, young one. I have many answers, but more questions than could be answered in a lifetime. I have doubted and I have promised, I have followed and I have strayed, through my many years. I have seen many evils performed and I stood to the side. My anger was roused at the smallest injustice, but I ignored the dead bodies that piled up on my doorstep. I do not believe I am the only one to have acted this way.
Ah… the world. The world is a strange place, my friend. It is full of hatred and anger. Destruction and despair are inevitable, yet you… you act as though you hate this place. Do you not know this place was created for us? No, it is only the people you hate. And yet, I do not believe you truly hate them. It is yourself that you hate, though you would disguise it under a mask of humility and eagerness to serve.
A story? You wish for a story? Then, my children, gather round.
I knew of a girl, once. We were not friends, but I did know of her. She was young, not quite seventeen, and she was beautiful. She was not the most alluring of others her age, but there was something about her that drew others to her. She was quick and witty, and others counted on her for her intelligence. She was good with numbers and even better with abstract ideals. I think she might have grown up to be a politician or a diplomat. She was constantly surrounded by a crowd of friends. Good friends; they all laughed and joked together, and stood up for who they were and what they believed in, though they were a motley assortment of beliefs.
But this girl… she was a peacemaker, but had the flare of war inside of her. I would see her sit by a window and stare out into the rain, her eyes burning for a fight. She needed somewhere to run, something to attack and overcome, and something to follow. She wasn't overly belligerent, but there was a definite need in her to fight. She wasn't destined for the military, though. She was always too short for that sort of thing.
I sometimes wondered why I would think of her in such a way. She was always trying to keep things even and quiet within her friends. She was even a bit of a flirt with one of her male friends. She was rather… ordinary, if one did not bother to look beneath the surface. But I wanted to look underneath the surface and understand her. Though one in a million other teenage girls, she had a glimmer of something grand about her. She carried herself with authority that was beyond her age and conducted herself with grace and dignity that was not usually understood by others like her. Though, I do not believe there are many left in the world like her.
As this girl grew up, her problems became many and varied. Her past haunted her with every step, and future problems bore down upon her, trying to break her legs and her back by their sheer weight. She did not sleep much at night, I don't think, and even if she were able to manage a few hours of rest, I think she would have been awakened by dark dreams of her past years. Though surrounded by friends, she did not trust any of them and did not open to anyone.
I worried for her, and I did not even know her.
She was the type to do the right thing in all situations. If there was an injustice, she would speak up. She wasn't afraid to do the right thing. She followed her reasoning. Though her emotions would tell her to stay silent, she knew what she had to do, and she did it. She was admired by many for that quality, but she did not realize it.
… What? What happened to the girl? To be truthful, children, I am not sure. We lost contact a long time ago. If I am honest, we were never close to begin with, though I think she believed we were, and I did not leave her, but she eventually pushed me away. It is a painful parting, and one I do not enjoy thinking of. Do I hope for a reunion with my girl?
Oh. Of course. Every day, I continue hoping. I will never stop hoping.
Until she returns, I will search for her.
You see, my children, she was looking for the same things you were. I believe she found them in me for a while, but ceased to want to search deeper for the answers. She, with her great intellect, knew the answers, but the cold rationale could not touch her heart that longed for something better. The answers were not good enough. She needed proof. She needed a war to fight.
I believe the answers to all of your questions are out there, and I do not have them all. You amuse me, and yet, you are correct. I will not reveal them all to you, simply because it is not my place to do so. I think you need to learn some things on your own, and you will find them. If it is comfort you need, then I am right here. If it is a shelter, you may come into my tent and curl up in my extra furs. If you need an escape from the storms that frequently plague us here, then I am not planning on leaving until the storms abate. Come inside; I have many more stories to tell.