Hope

The one I have lost has told me that there is a possibility that we may be able to be friends again some day.  In face, she as much as guaranteed it, which helps a lot.

But the frustrating thing about me, as she and others have so well learned, is that I am a VERY all or nothing kind of person.  It’s a coping mechanism.  Likely a very childish one.  I accept it for what it is, difficult for most people who get very close to me and find that I demand these extremes.

It is not something I value about myself, but it is something that is so intrinsic in me that I cannot even fathom how to change it.  I suppose that is what therapy is for. My first appointment was yesterday.  Another on Tuesday.

And hope is not different.  I am so immensely relieved that she has said that she will forgive me one day and reach out.  I don’t know when that day will be, and that is ok.  I have no right to make demands.  And maybe it will actually never happen. But the paradox that I am both clings to this hope and refuses to let it bleed into my life.

Clearly she is not dead.  It’s not even an appropriate metaphor if there is indeed hope of us reviving our friendship at any point in the future.  But whilst I very much cling to that hope to keep me afloat, deep, deep down inside, on the surface I must act that there is no hope.

I cannot do what I am doing, seeking help and getting therapy if I am doing it all to “win her back” so to speak.  That won’t work.  It will backfire and I will end up accomplishing nothing at all.  I must do all this, this therapy, seeking help, healing myself and fundamentally changing parts of who I am as though she will never come back. I must do it so that *I* become my all, even when there is nothing.

So I am caught.  The hope she has given me I am immensely grateful for.  It is a huge help in ways I cannot describe.  But I must tuck it away in my most secret of places, and not take it out and look at it every hour, every day.

I must hold it deep within as a gift, but not the fuel for my fire.

So if you ever get to know me, in a close, deep way, and it seems that I am a pessimist, or so negative that I don’t see hope as a good thing, please know that you are wrong.  I carry hope with me every day.  It is just not my reason for being.  Hope is the future.  I must concentrate on today.  If someday my hopes come true, than I will be doubly blessed, because I will have made myself a better person not for it but for me.

So please don’t stop giving me hope, even if it seems that I don’t want it.

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