Absence

Loving you less would make my life easier. It would mean that I wouldn't notice the way our relationship has gradually faded, the way it has slowed, the way we have gone in different directions only to find ourselves miles apart. It would mean that I wouldn't think about the hows and whys of reaching this point, that I wouldn't regret all of the things that were done, and worse, not done to lead us here, that I wouldn't feel saddened at the mere thought of you. It would mean that I wouldn't miss you so much.

You used to praise me for my optimism, but I think that you always had it a bit confused. I am hopeful, yes, but I don't know if I would consider myself optimistic. Optimism seems to me like something other than hope. Optimism stems from a kind of happiness, a kind of blind faith that everything will work out, that everything will remain as happy as it has been and continues to be. Optimism is the belief that good ultimately predominates over evil in the world.

But hope? Hope is the consequence of absence. The absence of someone or something. Hope is what gets us out of bed each morning despite the ache of knowing there is something missing. Hope is not the belief in happy endings, but is the longing to believe in them, the longing to believe that it is possible to fill that empty space inside oneself. Optimism is a state of being, but hope is a feeling. Optimism is an option, but hope is a necessity. It's an insatiable desire. It's why we continue on.

Because what is life if not a search? If we were to make a list of all that we are grateful for having and of all that we wanted for ourselves in the future, what would that list be if not a reflection of our hope? We wished for these things, and even if we weren't optimistic about getting them, we hoped they would be in our lives. We hoped for the best. Sometimes that hope pays of, sometimes not, but the gamble is what inspires us to keep going. That list of things to be grateful for is proof of the worthiness of hope. It is enough to pursue the search.

You never really got that right about me. I do not believe that life is inherently happy, that people are intrinsically good, that everyone gets their happily-ever-after. I do not believe that there are factors bigger than ourselves determining the course of things. I do not believe in the existence of magic, or the power of love, or the truth of fairy tales. I do not believe in anything, but I have hope in everything. I have the desire to believe. I have the longing to find answers to the questions I've left blank. I have the terrible, painful, beautiful ache of absence inside me.

I have the terrible, painful, beautiful ache of missing you. And while I may not be optimistic that we will ever have the kind of relationship we once did, that I will ever be able to fill that particular void, I am hopeful that I will. With all of my heart I hope. For me. For you. For us.