TG wonders: Does Hope Float?

I thought hope floated. That it was something buoyant and strong, a force that kept the darkness and sadness at bay. But it seems that maybe hope is more fragile than I thought, that perhaps the iridescent sphere that houses hope is as fragile as soap bubbles.

My most recent post was about my rose colored glasses and what I said is still true. I do believe that the world should be a happy, beautiful place where we each can find a niche and be content. I don't hold onto the notion that we can maintain extended happiness; part of the reason we can appreciate blissful moments so much is by knowing less perfect times. Joy is sweeter when, like a perfect peach, it is savored at it's most ripe. Perhaps it isn't really hope that has failed me, perhaps it is that I haven't accepted that there are "lovers" and "lovees;" perhaps it is that I am holding on too tightly to the idea that whatever it is can work with the right combination of silliness and devotion. Perhaps though, I am the only devoted one?

As I write, I know in my bones that last sentence is the closest to the truth. I know that my continued hope and belief are not strong enough to sustain two people; deep down in my soul I know that my absence is more of a relief than my presence is a gift. And the beautiful, bubble of hope has burst... perhaps I chased it too hard or reached for it when all I should have done is appreciate it's beauty as it floated by me.