Ah, false hope.
You are a dazzling mind-bender, a mirage in a desert I stubbornly insist on wandering in. You are the white lie I believe is right and true, despite all evidence to the contrary. You are the ledge I hold onto, hoping help is on the way. You are the rumor that is too good to be true. You are a false idol, but I pray to you every night.
You are not real. You are an idea that should never have made it out of my dreams. You are a walking disaster, and you hold my hand as you lead me into the unknown. You are currying favor with everything I love, and so I see you in everything I do. The truth hurts but you paralyze.
You are present in my heartbreak, my anxiety, my regret. Sometimes you tiptoe around, so I don’t even hear you. You are clever that way. Sometimes I don’t see you for days, weeks, months. But you are as impossible to shake as you are comforting.
You, who I can never see coming for me. You are obvious, blatant, and downright crass whenever you plague my friends, my family, my peers. I can warn those I love against trusting you whenever you appear to them. When you come for me, however, I open my home to you. I offer you room and board, free of charge.
Ah, false hope. None of us will ever truly be rid of you. But we will learn to work alongside you, mostly undisturbed.