Gloomy and Cold

Image you are given a type of treasure you weren't expecting at all, you weren't necessarily in search of it or wanting it in anyway, but it shows up one day out of the blue. It is locked tightly in a glass box. there's no door, there's no key. it sits in front of you day in and day out. at first you understand it's there but you don't look at it closely at all. it sits still, and you pass it constantly looking out of the corner of your eye; always knowing it's there. Then you sit one day. and you stare at the treasure. you start to feel it, and become aware it will be there just the same tomorrow, as it was today. inside the glass. you can't take it out. you can't touch it with your hands. you can only sense it's presence with your heart and your mind. this is how you see it, this is how you start to know it. you become more curious as to why it's there. Someone floats into the room and like a dream speaks to you. "You must watch over this treasure while it is inside this box. You must protect it and stay with it day and night, do your best to keep it safe. but know that one day will come when it will disappear. After all this time under your protection it will fade from the box and out of your care. While you spend all your time getting to understand it completely you must know that you will never, in your life, get to touch it. It will stay inside the box; and then it will be gone." The presence floats away just as it came and you're alone again, with the gift right in front of you. You are angry. You want to walk away now and leave it to someone else. you want to close your eyes and sleep it off. but you wake it's still there, so you want to go on without knowing it's there at all so you won't know it when it's gone. so you won't feel a loss as it if never arrived. you don't know how long it will be there. you don't know how long you have to keep shrugging it off. you want it to be an illusion. you want it to be a joke. you want to treasure to be made of something else, an imitation, imagination. then you wonder if what you were told could have been a lie as well, or misinformation, or a mistake. so you're torn on trying your hardest to keep the gifts safe selflessly without hope of ownership someday. or to keep them safe with the hope of the opposite. or to try harder to make what you learned less likely, and to cherish it and try your best to make it yours someday. you contemplate your options and you're left alone with the box. You know all the possibilities and the presence whispers in your ear as you drift off to sleep "if you hope to open the gift at the right time it may happen, but know that if it works, you may vanish instead." Jolting awake you look around your room and there is no one there. You Scream: "Are you a demon? Are you a Gaurdian? Are you simple harsh logic that toys with my head?" You don't know why you are left with these choices, but you know you're left with them and time to wait. Wait for more answers, more possibilities, or for decisions left to power out of your own hands. A helpless feeling settles in your soul and you weep. You're asked to give your love freely. You're told that love will float away in the end without a thing to remind you of it. You cry out to the Heavens for answers, you beg, and you plead, and you don't stop until your tears run dry and your voice is lost and your throat is harsh. The sun comes up and an Angel comes into your selfmade prison you no longer allow yourself to leave. You look up at him, weak, and disbelieving. "Hope and love are your two strongest secret weapons." He says. He retreats. You're unsatisfied but aware your voice was heard. You rest peacefully through the day. When you wake you're ready to make the best of all choices you are given, to seek answers. Hope and love. You let down the walls and move slowly forward in faith.