Hope

Today, as I walked along "The Wall" or the boardwalk of Kitsilano Beach in Vancouver, I passed several people lounging out in the sun on park benches or jogging by with their dogs. It made me feel better about hanging out too as others were taking the luxury to take care of themselves and do their writing in this small paradise with its ocean and mountainous backdrop.

There was one person who, in particular, caught my attention, however. She was sitting on a bench with a pad of paper in her lap, writing while busily talking on the phone. "Hope is the key to life," she loudly told her friend on the other end, and repeated it a few times. It sounded like she was answering a homework question, actually. Maybe she was.

And I found it quite apt that I would walk by then and catch that snippet of conversation. Hope really is all I;ve hinged my life on the past few years, even in times I wished I'd have the courage to end it all, and I continue to hang onto the threads of hope. There is nothing else. And luckily I think I'm getting closer to the answer at the light at the end of the tunnel.