Hope Springs Eternal
Last night I was overcome with grief and worry, but this morning I feel different. In situations like these, I like to torture myself with images of what might've been, what could've been. I look through pictures, letters, anything to remind me what I've lost. I reminisce about the good times, but really hone in on the bad times, paying particular attention to every error or transgression that I made. I blame myself. And then I mourn, for months at a time; I dwell on the past and punish myself for destroying what could've been something special.
This morning I sifted through birthday cards and little scraps of paper he'd written me. Sweet nothings; treasures, really. Mementos that I'd kept for myself. But this time I wasn't looking at them to deepen the wound in my heart; this time I wasn't reflecting on what could've been, but what could be. I was seeking something that I need desperately: Hope. Something that often eludes me, but something I need if I'm going to get through this.
If he still loves me, which I think he does, then maybe we can be saved - I can be saved. Maybe I can salvage the best thing that's ever happened to me. Maybe there's hope after all. Maybe there's a silver lining amidst all this suffering. Maybe. I hope so.
This morning I sifted through birthday cards and little scraps of paper he'd written me. Sweet nothings; treasures, really. Mementos that I'd kept for myself. But this time I wasn't looking at them to deepen the wound in my heart; this time I wasn't reflecting on what could've been, but what could be. I was seeking something that I need desperately: Hope. Something that often eludes me, but something I need if I'm going to get through this.
If he still loves me, which I think he does, then maybe we can be saved - I can be saved. Maybe I can salvage the best thing that's ever happened to me. Maybe there's hope after all. Maybe there's a silver lining amidst all this suffering. Maybe. I hope so.