As resilient as I may feel at times, there are moments when it feels as if I’m about to crumble. Being an idealist is tiring. It raises expectations that the pragmatist in me convinces me is practically achievable, if only…and it’s that ‘if only’ that always sets me up for a whole lot of hurting. But occasionally, the ‘if only’ bit proves to be true and what I wish for actually materialises for a few brief moments, which only reaffirms the fragility, because the achievement of something I desire or yearn for is a subtle reminder that I have that much more that can be ripped away from me.
I’m not used to having what I desire, just what I need. What I desire most right now is equally fragile, if not more so. I can’t give up wanting to have her in my life. She completes me, and even though the potential loss of her threatens to destroy me completely, every cell in my fatigued body refuses to give up on her. Which only makes me more fragile when I really need to be more strong. But I’m still optimistic. I have an expectation of happiness, even if my head feels hopeless, my heart will hear nothing of it.