Lost will

She was wearing a worn gray hoodie, white shoes that were gradually turning the color of the dirt beneath her, and jeans she had evenly rolled up just below her calves. They were at some old fair that required their obligatory annual attendance. Her father stopped her and said, "Hey come here for a minute", she replied, "Humor me". He ran his fingers through his hair as he did whenever she talked to him like that and said, "Next week things are going to change, everything will be official", with his permanently creased forehead and black eyes. She chuckled in amusement, things had been changing for the last 2 years as quickly as a baby's diaper needs to swapped. Change, my God she hated it. It never stopped and it was always drastic, at least in her life. Everything was always ripped out from under her like a surfboard after failing to catch a wave. It was never good, she longed for that day.. The day change would be good. First her best friend, next her love, then her family, and finally her faith. Gone, never to return. She dealt with them in various ways, some more harming than others. She tried filling voids that would never be filled and she was always let down. She learned to keep her expectations low and to never promise anything, for they were always broken. She was broken, like a tree whose branch had been freshly cut. It was like God took a sharply edged saw and said "Today, I will cut another branch from your tree and you will just have to move on". That was the way things worked and if things were good for just a moment, she knew that hope would be ripped from under her like everything else. They say hope is dangerous because it is the only thing stronger than fear and I have to agree.. Hope has that uncanny ability to bend your mind, your reality. It tells you that it is here for you and you believe it for just that moment. It tells you that your life will be better, that your love will return, that your mind will be clear, it is indeed dangerous. Hope is not patient, it is not kind. It does envy, it does boast, and it is proud. It dishonors others, it is self-seeking, it is easily angered, and it keeps record of wrongs. Hope delights in evil and devises with the truth. It never protects, is never trustworthy, always lies, and always perseveres. That is hope, it is not love but tries to imitate. She never hoped anymore, she tried to love, she never believed, she just tried to live.