Today,
I had lunch with a girl.
We spoke about this thing called hope.

Love was out of the topic.
Who knew love?
What is love?

The hope we both once had.
The blind hope.
The fake hope.
The hope that drives us to this road.
The hope that keeps our candles flaming.

We all had it all.
The dream, the hope and then, the REALITY.

I told her,
I had to be strong.
I cannot afford vulnerability.
I poured my heart out.
She did the same.
I never felt that to hope was to be hurt.

How two person are so different and yet so alike?
What explains the aches we go through?
A cult? Hatred? Denial?
Or just plain confussion of feelings.

Hope.
I had it right behind my head.
Funny.