Just this year. I'll be stupidly hopeful for one more year. If optimism doesn't kill me, I'll do it for the year. I'll get up again day after day. Find something to laugh about, something to smile to myself over. Just little moments like that. I don't need anything more than that. It just can't be forced anymore. Just this year. I'll repeat it like a mantra for more years to come. I hope I don't need it for more years to come. I hope hoping doesn't devastate me more. But it's all I can do for this year. I'll be naive and bright. Once December comes it'll all be different. A good kind of different.