August 16, 2021
I met a fellow today.
I haven’t had a connection with anyone in a very long time. We texted all day. It was sexual, then it was personal, then it was human, then it was sexual and personal and human.
How can you feel someone inside of you, feel them to your core, when 24 hours previous you didn’t know they existed? How can you fear the loss of someone who wasn’t alive to you yesterday?
These unanticipated connections birth Hope. But she’s so fickle, Hope is. I can’t trust her. She motivates, soothes, encourages, calms, champions, and uplifts. She creates bridges from mere mist that turn to solid footing, where egos and minds and spirits cross and meet and meld in indescribable ways. Hope births Joy.
Then Hope takes her leave. Often abruptly. Her absence devastates. I never know when she’ll be back. I can only hope Hope returns. I hope Hope stays for a bit this time. She’s quite a delight. She’s quite a partner. She’s quite a friend. But she’s so fickle, Hope is.
In spite of that, I love Hope with my entire being. I surrender to Hope. I’ve found it’s the only way I can continue on, the only way I can live. I cling to Hope.
I Persevere. And life goes on.