i’m not alone in this feeling, but it’s still hard to put into words. i’ve realized it’s not just him that i miss — it’s the version of myself that existed before that moment, before the world shifted. when he was shot, something in me broke too. i used to believe that, deep down, most people were good. that no matter our differences, we could disagree, argue, and still hold on to a shared sense of decency.
but seeing the way people reacted — celebrating violence, mocking pain, and excusing cruelty — changed everything. i never imagined that people i knew personally, people i thought had compassion, would show such darkness in their hearts. it wasn’t about politics or opinions anymore; it became a question of humanity. how can anyone cheer for someone’s death simply because of their words? since when did words become so dangerous that they deserve bullets?
i keep replaying it in my mind — not just what happened, but the reactions, the silence, and the justifications. it made me realize how fragile our moral compass has become. when you strip everything away, there are only two kinds of people left in this world: those who believe in kindness, and those who believe in hate.
and if you can look at violence and call it justice simply because it suits your feelings or ideology, then you’ve already stepped into the wrong side of history. i miss believing the world was mostly good. i miss that innocence. i miss the comfort of thinking people cared about right and wrong. but after what happened, i see clearly now — goodness isn’t as common as i once thought.
