Hope.

This thing called hope. Oh my goodness! It's such a mystery to me! I've thought about it, wrestled with it, fought against it, sat with the idea of it for some time now, and it's still mesmerizing to me. A few weeks ago, I tossed a certain desire and hope to the side; I decided it wasn't worth waiting for anymore.

After a little while, I realized the hope wasn't really gone. It was in fake release. Somehow I recognized that the hope was only covered up with a sense of bitterness in my heart - a 'FINE then', hard fist kind of way... And I didn't like that so much. Though it's hard, and the road of continued effort to keep hoping is soo grueling sometimes, I realized, in a completely non-comforting way that it's better to carry unmet desire in my heart than it is to have 'fake release' that is rooted in bitterness. I'm bound to get ugly with any hint of bitterness in my heart.

It seems to me the only option is to carry on hoping: there must be some reason that it lives on, and some reason why it won't simply dissolve in my heart. It must be worth something.