As many close friends know, I am a pretty outgoing person. What many of those same people may not know is that I often have bouts with darkness. It’s not that I try to hide it, but I have found that people don’t like talking about the darkness. We’re scared of the dark, aren’t we. We’re not just afraid of what lurks in the dark, but we’re also afraid of the ignorance the darkness brings.

I want to be able to label an issue or explain a problem. When we hear of someone struggling through something, we often try to give uplifting answers. Yes, the darkness frightens us. And so. We remain in the darkness.

I have found that when I have told people about my bouts, my visage transforms before my eyes. I see confusion. I see uneasiness. And yet. I find that the sadness is often a friend. He reminds me that things are not the way they ought to be. There is something sinister about the world. Something beautiful, yet shrouded in darkness. The sadness makes me long for a day when the fog will lift.

Friend, I am okay with the darkness. I want to know that you are too. I want to know that as Death Cab for Cutie sings, that you will follow me into the dark. Not having answers. Not knowing what questions to ask. Not anxious to see light. But in the darkness mourning together that the world is not the way it ought to be.