For the Extraordinary One You Have

There’s a certain hope, a longing. A gossamer sketch of a dream just beyond where you can reach. A one-day place or space somewhere, sometime where life just isn’t so hard. Where decisions aren’t barbed, where results aren’t broken or delayed. Where the map’s not blurred and the path’s not faded. Where your effort upon effort upon effort’s not round-house punched, leaving you gashed open and gasping, facedown in the dust.

Will this only ever be a hoped-for place?

Maybe all you’ve ever known is this. This hard. Tied up, always. Limping, always. Behind, always. Can’t seem to get from here to there. Doing this and this and this to try. Surely that’s something, you say, all that trying, all that time, all those things. Surely that’s enough.

But it’s not enough. Not ever enough. And the next jolt comes.

It slams so hard. Your footing falls away.

While all the people everywhere live happy, happy lives in happy houses with happy jobs where hard never lives, where hard never stays.

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