Is it hope to slide the lock home every morning, knowing that it indicates interest.
Is it hope to whisper you are special.
Is it hope to whisper I want to stay.
Is it hope to say This isn’t working and we have to change. But how much?
Is it hope to say I don’t want to be a fleshlight again.
Is it hope to express boundaries when you do not know if they will be respected.
Is it hope to keep trying when you are almost certain you are wrong in every particular.
Is it hope to get up in the morning and smile when I don’t feel like smiling. Because if we fake it we teach our brains how to make it.
Once upon a time I told one man that the reality of him was not worth giving up the possible hope of a reality with children in it.
Now I tell a man that reality with him is worth more than the hope of the child I have wanted and dreamed about. Because I can never be sure I’ll really get that child anyway.
Is it hope to want this to be enough even when it doesn’t feel like enough. What is enough.
Is it hope to keep putting seeds in the ground year after year. Grow my little friends. I know I do a poor job of supporting you now. I’m learning and improving. Some year we will live together in harmony.
Is it hope to believe that cuts on my leg are ok as long as they mean I am here.
Is it hope to believe that maybe suicide was the best choice when I was 15. At the very least, it woke me the fuck up. It was change things or die. Change things or die. Change things or die.
Here I am.
Is that hope?