I continue for hope.

Tonight, walking in the summer rain through the fields watching the landscape turn from blue to black while thunder gods rolled above, the memory of my old dog Chloe looked up at me with eyes that asked what keeps me going.
I told her “hope.” Sometimes hope is enough.
Hope that some day I will matter. Hope that something that I do or something that I say will get past all the hazy symbolism and actually register with someone. Hope that there can be a true tangible connection that does not end but goes on to the remaining days and to the remaining nights. Hope that some day, goodbye will be a forgotten word.
Hope.
I continue for hope.

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