People tell me there’s hope, to hang on, but I don’t see any hope. What does hope look like?

Will I recognize hope when I see it?

Is it yellow, golden, green, blue?

What shape is hope?

I wonder if I meet hope on the road if it will talk to me. I’m not sure.

My heart has been broken so many times that I can’t feel it anymore. It’s been shattered on the ground in 7000 pieces over and over again. Once I put it back together again, it falls out again, down to the floor, and breaks again. So here I am again, laying on the bed, wondering when this pain will stop. My legs are close to my chest. My arms are wrapped around them. And I’m crying, but the tears are almost gone. I can’t expect this pain to go away. It’s left me not being able to function, work, live or eat. I’m crying so hard and waiting for the tears to stop but I need to get them all out. All of them need to be eradicated from my body.

If I could just rid myself of this horrendous pain, maybe I would be able to be better. If I could scream loud enough, perhaps these shooting pains would leave my body and let me rest well for once. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend that it’s okay. When my mom calls I lie. I tell her that everything is fine. It’s not fine.

When I tell my friends I’m suffering they offer me these words:

“Just keep going.”

“You matter.”

“It’s going to be okay.”

“Everything happens for a reason.”

How many times can I hear people say these trite statements? They don’t make me feel better. I still can’t get out of bed. I still can’t make it better.

It hurts so much.

Will it get better? Is there hope?

I’m still looking for it. Let me know if you find it, okay?