Merriam Webster defines Hope as the desire with expectation of obtainment or fulfilment. It is when we want something to be true or something to happen. A long lasting dream of sorts towards which we work throughout our lives. It could be a dream job, a dream house, a love life, a pet, a family or a retirement plan. It changes with age and we keep updating this dream as we grow older. But it gets better with age. Like when we are young we will want a pony or a unicorn. We will hope that someone will get us a barbie doll house or a remote control car. With age this hope turns to something that is everlasting in a way.
A friend and I were talking and they spoke about how hopeful they once were. And they said they grieve that past version of them self that doesn’t hope or dream about life as much now. That got me thinking. When was the last time I made a plan about my life? I don’t even remember having the age 30 cross my mind in the plan. I wanted to be all settled in a peaceful happy life by the time I turned 28.
I was supposed to be married by 25, have my first child around 27 and second child by the time I turn 28 or 29. I never even thought of 30 as a milestone back then. By back then I mean when I was 15 or 16. Because I think that was the last time I dreamt and made a plan for life. Little did I know that I would be dealing one curve ball after another. I was supposed to be going into my happily ever after by the time I turned 30. I wish I had that optimistic thought 15 year old me had. I turned 17 and fell into the trap of a predator who ruined my life. The next three years are a blur and I don’t even frankly remember much of it anymore. Then came some light at the end of the tunnel and I fell in love. But I fell in love with the wrong guy who did not love me as much as I loved him. Years went by trying to get over him. Years went by trying to figure out what I wanted in a relationship and life now that I have piled up enough of trust and abandonment issues on my head.
Years went by as I dated one guy after another and got my heart broken. There was the one that got away who didn’t even try to fight for what we could have had. And then there was the one who made me hope after a long time who walked away like I meant nothing.
Now I don’t have hope or any dreams or even plans in my head. I certainly don’t want the life I once hoped as well. I want to be childless and live alone with my cats at the least. I wished I had someone who knew me a little bit more than I did. Heck, I don’t even have a friend from my school time to say that they knew me since we were kids. No one wanted to stick with me. And I let them walk away when I realised I was holding on too tight when they never even touched the rope.
I have one friend who has known me for a while now and they have stuck through hell with me. But even with them I don’t hope much. Because life is cruel like that and hope just makes the heartbreak much more painful than it already is. If life happens to drift us apart, I would have no hard feelings. I understand and I would just cherish the amazing times we had and be okay with it. That is how much hope 30 year old me has. It’s sad and pathetic to a certain extent for sure. But it is what it is. It is a much more realistic version of life I suppose. I mean I don’t see a reason to hope for a better, fairytale life at this point. I know what I am capable of and what I can handle and I know what I absolutely do not want.
I’m done grieving for that girl who once hoped she will experience her happily ever after. This is me at my last stage of grief: acceptance!
