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.