© dear hope
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© dear hope
Dear hope,
I’m facing all of my fears - losing my job, being stuck in a place where I don’t feel like I belong, feeling like I can’t go back nor see the way forward. I talk to you often, knowing you’ve long gone, but still holding on to the memory of you and believing you are listening, somewhere out there. I talk to the void, late at night, when I can’t sleep. To the sky, the cloudy endless sky, with the mountains in the distance, in the chill of a morning. I cradle a cup of coffee, wanting to hold on to something, anything, that will have warmth in a summer that is emptier, lonelier than I thought possible. I have days where I can’t get out of bed nor fall asleep, and days where I see a glimpse of you, in the sun and in the sound of a breeze that reminds me of a home I haven’t found yet.
Dear Hope,
I bring this message with less anger than the last, but I have forgone the happy note.
Today, I arrived to a bag where I sit in class. The gent in the row above has left his bag on my desk. What a terrible start of my day. Guess it’s a sign I’ve been forgotten.
Sincerely,
The Resigned
© DearHOPE | do not edit.
© DearHOPE | do not edit.
© DearHOPE | Do not edit.
© DearHOPE | Do not edit.