“It will come.”
Someone said this to me several days ago.
It was said in a very casual way and I didn’t realize it until much later that those three words offered so much promise and a kind of quiet certainty, as if it is one of those things that happen naturally like the sun rising every morning.
Sometimes I tend to forget. I forget to be grateful. I forget that there are other things I should think of other than my nonexistent love life. I forget that one year spent exploring my newfound freedom is time well spent and equivalent to a million days of sun compared to the seven spent in blinded bliss with a person who never understood me. I forget that my dreams are waiting to become reality.
I cling to these words to remind myself there is hope. There is always hope.
I refuse to be cynical.
Even if things do not go as I hoped they would. Even if I end up disappointed because I expected too much. Even if I make more mistakes along the way because it is inevitable.
It will come.
