Hope


Noun: the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.

Hope is a funny thing for me. I covet it, rely on it, and it manages to propel me forward when I feel stuck inside myself. But things don’t often turn out for the best, do they? This is where I struggle.

Why does one ‘give up’ hope? Should we ever? How can we keep that fire burning, even if it’s dwindled down to a lonely little ember?

I am a writer, businessperson and a photographer, daughter/aunt/sister/friend/cat-caregiver. But mostly…I am just a woman.

I love too hard, hope too hard and try too hard. It’s who I am and I wonder if it’s time to change that. I wonder if it’s time to rein it in and somehow give up…some of that Pollyanna wistfulness and toughen up, but just a little.

My brain tells me to suck it up. My heart tells me to feel. Feel, everything and be okay with whatever flows through me – be it pain or joy. I’ve been accused, many times, of being too sensitive, taking words and actions to heart.

The thing is, in order to be true to myself, this is how I walk through life. This is what brings me the urge to create, to take pretty pictures and text poetry to people who may or may not appreciate it. These are the chances I take. These are the passionate expressions of me. This is how I paint my world. This is how I always manage to LOVE.

I’ve had two men walk through my life in the past twelve months that have left me swaying from grief. One wasn’t ready for me and I was simply someone to make him feel better while he found his self-confidence. Once he did, I was no longer needed and set out with the rest of the trash. He couldn’t even bring himself to be a friend; today I got a final – goodbye. Perhaps it’s for the best.

The other had so much darkness and emotional pain, he encased himself in, he took his own life and shattered the lives around him that loved him the most. But he is the one I always forgive. He is the one I continue to send love to. His was nothing short of the saddest tragedy resulting in the most unbearable circumstances.

I feel somewhat raw and exposed. But still…

There’s that little ember, glowing away underneath all the black and burnt parts of my heart. I can even feel a little heat from her. She’s fragile, tender, yet forever resilient.

But most of all…she is filled with an immeasurable amount of…

Hope…this is where I anchor my soul.

hopeis

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