As I sit upon the witness chair

At the judge I'm supposed to stare

Give my story, my heart I'll bare

Beg for a sentence long and fair

Explain how hard it's been to cope

May confess how I've turned to dope

Through words of emotion I will grope

Hold myself together, is my hope

I'll tell of memories I hold dear

Then tell of what I now most fear

All his charges I dread to hear

When it's over I'll seek a beer.

I walk in numbness, dread and pain

The thought of seeing him again

Is nothing more than a mental strain

My love for him I need to explain

I just want to hold him one last time

Regardless of the type of his crime

My soul and heart aches and pines

knowing he may be away for a lifetime

Will they let me see him?

I hope

Will they let me hug him?

I hope.

Will he want to see me?

I hope.

I hope.

I hope.

Under heavy chains about fifty stories below

Fell to cardiac arrest on my rebirth years ago

Broke an ice cage of a shadow I called my past

Into a secret heaven of my present I prayed to last

Afraid of a haze pulling my addiction away

Would you call me insane for my love to gray ?

Hope. I didn't see it anymore. It didn't scare me that I couldn't get excited about getting out of bed. Who did? That alone didn't mean I was broken. It didn't frighten me that I made excuses to get out of social situations. Everyone did that on occasion to binge watch a show or just read a book. The fact that nothing made my pulse race was... dull. It was true, my life had kinda flatlined. And sure maybe it was weird that I didn't care enough to try to resuscitate it. Maybe all of that is what made me a fuckup. And who was I to pretend to see hope?

Hope is something that happens automatically in those human beings who are predisposed to optimism, and yet is often suppressed manually precisely because of hope not being realized. It hurts worse when one "gets her hopes up" and then has them crushed versus someone who didn't have his hopes up to begin with, and therefore is not surprised when hope is not realized. And if the hope is realized? Then it's a pleasant surprise.

Hope is a tricky thing. Being hopeful allows for more pain, hurt, and disappointment. It's risky business. Does having hope mirror having expectations too closely? Many people say not to have expectations, but to appreciate everything that comes. Is hope too similar to having expectations and therefore everyone should remain, in a word, hopeless? So as to not expect anything?

This seems a cynical way to live, and yet, perhaps the most realistic. But it also means remaining jaded and not allowing oneself to feel pain. It's escapism.

All emotions are beautiful. All emotions demand to be felt. Pain, joy, love, heartache. To truly learn and grow, one must lean into them, and not avoid them. Avoidance of uncomfortable and painful emotions means we stunt our growth and prolong our struggle. Welcoming difficult feelings, by contrast, helps us to feel more fully human, to feel really alive, to embrace the human condition, and to develop empathy.

"The glory of God is man fully alive." - St. Irenaeus

Hope is not, and has never been about optimism or pessimism. Hope is not an outlook on life. Instead, hope is the butterfly in our stomachs, in our hearts, a butterfly that begs to be let out into the world, to roam free. Some people hope most of their lives, watching that butterfly flutter. Time stands still for them, watching it fly is somewhat therapeutic. Hope never dies unless you let it. Hope is wishing for something more in life, overlooking the possible consequences and focusing on the positive outcomes, because it's better to look forward to something good than await your own destruction. Time and time again, the wind is against their butterfly, their hopes dashed over and over and over, but time stands still for them. Hope doesn't die until you let it. Some people would rather not waste their life hoping. Hope is just an illusion. A way to paint everything bad in a good light. A way to have something to look forward to when you're eventually getting the short end of the stick anyway. Some people have hoped again and again, but not once have the wind not been against them. Some people have given up. Maybe it's better not to expect much, that way if the worst happens we won't crash as hard. Hope is not, and will never be about optimism or pessimism. Hope is not an outlook on life. Hope is everlasting. Hope is dead.

Hope doesn't die unless you let it.