Everything happens...

...for a reason.

Or so some very good, caring, thoughtful and loving people tell me.

Of course the fact that they say this when I'm feeling as if the proverbial metric ton of excreat is smacking up against the rotating ventilation device may affect my judgement of what they're saying.

They would say the same if I had achieved a long-cherished goal, too. Of that I have no doubt. And I would certainly agree with them in that instance.

But they are saying it to me now. They want me to know, these wonderful people, that some good must come from the unhappiness, the feelings of rejection, the things I am expected to give up against my will. Though there is not a single aspect of my life -- at least as it concerns other people -- that isn't in the dumpster right now, they believe some reason exists why this is meant to be, why it will be to my benefit.

We disagree on one principal point: They seem to see some good coming from all this. They think I should continue to take the risks I have taken, even though the price of taking them has been so high. They believe in Good's eventual triumph over Bad.

I, on the other hand, look at the evidence and am forced to think that this is the Universe's way of telling me that someone has to take the fall, and I've been selected.

Funny thing: I used to agree with all those good, caring, generous and loving people whom life will -- deservedly -- ultimately reward for their goodness. In fact, I used to think I might be one of them.

Even so, with all cynicism laid aside, I hope they're right.

I hope the payoff they can see (but I cannot) comes soon so I can enjoy it, at least for a while.

Today would not be too early, believe me.