Lately, I've been too torn to find words, feeling so broken that I didn't think my heart could break any more. But it did. Again. For the umpteenth night in a row.

Tonight, a colleague of mine asked me (perhaps out of politeness rather than curiosity) how I was doing. I've never been one for idle talk, so I answered honestly, "A little sad actually."

"Oh. Why?" He seemed taken aback.

"A lot of reasons, I suppose. More generally, I'm just so sad about our world right now. I came home after my comedy show last night to learn about another two people being killed and I couldn't help myself from crying instead of sleeping."

"I'm glad that happened," he tossed back.

"What?" At first I thought he was joking.

"I'm glad that happened 'cause, if not, I'm next."

Just like that, our racial differences stepped to the forefront of my awareness.

We didn't get the chance to sit and speak. We didn't talk about our fears. I didn't tell him how angry I was that our world has left him afraid. I didn't tell him how sorry and hopeless I feel in wanting to be able to make him feel safe without knowing how. I didn't tell him how confused I am over how we became so fearful of one another or sad I am that we've become such suffocated beings when it comes to showing each other love.

I'm having a hard time understanding the gaps between one person's notion of humanity to another's. The more I learn, the less I know. Right now I know so little. But my tiny, immediate truth is this: my heart is sad because I want so much for us to change.