And then it comes, that time, the time to tell the truth about hope. First person, third person, what about second. Yes, second is decided upon. What better way to put it, than in second, with all levels of disassociation possible, and everything on you.
You hope. You think. You question. You realise. That's how it starts for you, and later you'll wonder why it had to start. You'll wish it hadn't, but you can't change it then, you can't change the past, but you'll only hope you could. You laugh at that thought, hoping to change the past. It's a bit of a paradox, you hope, but you can't hope, yet you're hoping to change time so you can. Your laugh was only a light chuckle, and after you smile for a moment that at least you can find something comical about it all. But you know that soon it will be gone, the laugh from memory, the smile already gone from your face. All that's left is a moment of despair, at the realisation of the truth. You hope for a day when you don't have to be like this. But you don't hope, you never hope do you. It's not something you want to control. But what is there to control? You know that it's all wrong, that none of it is truth. But everyday you ask yourself what if? You're too afraid, far too afraid to let yourself for one moment give in, in case it leaves you in pain, writhing, screaming, dead. You hope but you don't, you can't, you don't, you can't. You want to, but you know, you question, you wonder. What exists in this world? What stories of miracles and demons are true? Everyone always talks about hope, have hope in the darkness. You daren't hope in the darkness, you daren't hope in the light. You hope. But you don't.
Later, later on after it first begun, you wonder if it was stupid of you. It's gone now, gone and you can hope. You do hope. It was odd the way it ended, so odd you think, you never would of expected it. You never believed in epiphanies, or moments of realisation. This was neither of those, this was a decision. A decision to throw all that you thought up in the air, a moment where you no longer wanted anything to do with it. You hoped and you hoped and you hoped. And this time, you let it be. And you see, you see when you wake up the next morning with not a mar on your body or in your mind, that you were always foolish. But you already knew that, you just needed to see it. And you saw, and you hoped. And the world was okay.
And you realise, that there never was any need to be afraid of hope, but you don't regret any of it. Because now, only now, you can see that change can happen, and that the only way to survive, was to have a hope of the future, and a hope of change. Even if you still can't control the sheep jumping over the fence.