Dear Hope

Are you there? You are alive, that much I know. But, are you there? Are you listening? From wherever you might be, do you see me? Do you hear me?

I have been screaming your name inside my head. All day long. Sometimes I write about you. I try to make the words as beautiful as I can, only to catch your attention. And then I wait. For something. Maybe a wave. A “hello”. A little note. Too much to ask? Probably. But I wait for that too.

When I’m alone, sometimes I cry. And I do it because I miss you. We’ve been friends for such a long time. And now I don’t even know if you can see me, if you want to see me.

Dear Hope, I know you breathe. I know you feel. I know you once knew how to hold my hand. How to say my name. And how to make me happy. Like a little boy riding the Ferris wheel.

Maybe you forgot about all of those things. Maybe you simply don’t want to remember, or think is best not to. Nevertheless, please know, dear Hope, that because of you, I am here. Waiting. Impatient. Like a little boy who wants to ride again.