They say that hope dies last. And for her it’s the ugliest, the deadliest truth! She now hates to have this stupid hope sprouting in her heart practically everyday and eventually leaving her with eyes that look like pools. What’s the point of having a heart packed with hope when that hope doesn’t even materialize or bring her any happiness. But yeah, it surely afflicts her with pain and suffering and leaves her feeling paralyzed with anguish!
She shattered today like pieces of glass but it wasn’t something new. She already knew how excruciating it was to fall apart so often but still she couldn’t get used to it. Every time she broke down, she went through fresh horror, and her wounds would feel raw, red and sore. Blood oozed out of her soul. It was as if she was breathing her last only to find out that she contained in herself supreme, burning, violent strength to stand up yet again and prepare for life’s next battle.
Deep in her heart she cursed herself, and cursed her fate. Though she knew she shouldn’t but at times she even clashed with God Almighty. Her dreams and desires were small and ordinary but yes they were bizarre. They weren’t common dreams. They weren’t conventional desires. But then who was responsible for her queer, and creepy being? It was God Almighty who had designed her in that fashion and she just couldn’t settle for what her life offered her.
What is she to do now? Should she just settle for darkness and gloom? Should she give up? Should she simply accept her fate and the fact that desolation and despair are her only friends? But no, she wouldn’t do that! As they say hope dies last. So, in some ways her hope is actually her most lethal enemy. It breaks her. Makes her go through fiendish torture, sucks life out of her eyes, leaves her dead for days before restoring her strength and preparing her to be devastated yet again. That’s her life. She dies. She revives. She dies again. Again, comes back to life. Her shattered pieces continue to glue themselves together. All in the name of hope!