Sometimes you find that time after time, year after year, you hit your head against the same wall. Or you put your hopes in something that continually disappoints and does so hard. Sometimes you find yourself hoping and yet knowing the result will be the same. Sometimes you go or end up into something where it’s pretty much guaranteed you’re staring down hurt and frustration and disappointment and the subsequent depression.
This can be said for a lot in life.
Here in DC, the hope gets shattered in October and in May and sometimes in January, if any of those gets that far. When they do, they are shut down and hard. Every time there seems to be hope, a possibility. Maybe this time, it is said time and again, followed by maybe next year. Maybe next year. Maybe next year.
And why? What is even the point? Why be set up just to be knocked down? Why endure the nervousness only to feel it replaced with the icy rush of defeat flowing through your blood vessels? Why keep coming back? Why?
That tiny little possibility that it really just might be different this time.
6/7/18 – NEVER FORGET
This has been Day 16 of the 100 Days of Summer, Round 18.