⚠ revisiting "hoping"

"Don't ask if I'm happy, you know that I'm not
But at best, I can say I'm not sad"
- hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have – but i have it, Lana Del Rey

maybe.

maybe is a funny word.

maybe makes you believe that something will happen, even though it's not a guarantee.

there are all kinds of maybes, too.

there's the "spoken maybe", a verbal confirmation of sorts that indicates an event or choice might happen.

there's the "unspoken maybe". the knowledge that uncertainty exists, even if it's not openly confirmed.

and then there's the "perceived maybe".

it can be hard to distinguish between the last two at first. but when you feel it, it's hard to let it go. it tells you that something you truly, genuinely want to happen can happen, even when it can't. it makes you take one last shot in the dark even when you're out of ammo. it's absurd, irrational, but strangely enthralling.

it's nothing but a fantasy.

i've spent way too long perceiving maybes where they don't exist. following dreams that no longer belonged to me. looking for signs even after i told myself they meant nothing. telling myself that maybe, just maybe, life wouldn't let me down.

a while ago, a perceived maybe led me into believing i had found true hope. reaching out for what was lost, seizing moments that led nowhere. trying to rebuild something that was meant to be broken.

and now i see how wrong i was.

i haven't felt this bad in a long time. it's so much worse than any loss of hope i've experienced in the past. it almost feels tangible, a part of me that just drags me down. it's like a cloud hovering over my head, telling me i'll never be happy again.

what will happen in the end? what remains there when hope becomes meaningless? will i make it all the way there?

i don't know where my life will lead. i don't know what the greater purpose of any of my experiences is. i don't want to believe in hope anymore.

"hope is a dangerous thing. hope can drive a man insane."

maybe hope isn't for me.