H.O.P.E

Crushed one too many times I fear that the one that will finally end us is me. That I’ll do it myself. Will I even notice? Will I recognize the hand twisting the knife one last time to be my own? Will it be an act of betrayal or mercy?

Maybe I’m accustomed to the darkness and pain. The endless cycle is repeating itself over and over and over, again. Was it all in vain?
Did we go through all that, fought through all that, survive all that, just to end here?

Really?! I can feel the righteous anger building. It’s blinding, crippling. Oh why am I still fighting?! Have I fully bought into the four letter word that seems to mock my very existence? Hope.
Maybe in an alternate reality where I seem to camp these days more often than not, this is what it means to have hope.

Heartbreak. Cause I’ve had a couple of those. Does it still count if you’ve been broken more than enough times, one would say beyond recognition? Cause honestly I stopped counting. I recognize the feeling now. I know not where it ends and I begin. It left me feeling out of place.

Outcast. Yeah, I’ve always battled with this. Always struggled to fit-in, be part of something that got me, understood me, embraced me. All of me. Sad isn’t it? Well, it’s part of life. Look closely enough and you’ll see everyone is struggling with this. In their own way, we all feel out of place, alone.

Pessimist. I shouldn’t laugh, but my oh my did I build a whole defence mechanism into being a pessimist.
The worst can always happen therefore, prepare for it! Expect it! That way darling, when it does happen, you won’t be too surprised, too hurt, too broken. You’ll be fine! You saw it coming anyway so what are you so moppy about?! Ah this toxic relationship with self, fuelled me. Feed into the obsessive hunger of need for control.

Emotional. I think this one doesn’t need much explanation. Self explanatory, the intensity of having feelings. Too much emotion? Extreme or otherwise, if it consumes you, overwhelms you to the point of almost causing blindness to your situation. Darling you’re emotional.

If that’s what we call hope then yes, I do have hope. Surely there’s nothing wrong with that right? I doubt I am the only one subscribed to this definition. Built my whole existence on it. Ah yes, I can’t help but think that questioning myself like this, further supports the whole theory.
I am curious though, what’s on the other side of it? The same word but a different meaning. How does it feel to have that. Live in that;
Hope.