In some situations, hope is such a scary concept to me. It can be so unpredictable it hurts, and the suspense is the worst part. Part of me just wants to convulse and cry just thinking about it. That's probably why some of my bad days get so bad: I still have that little thought on the back of my mind: "Everything is going so well so far. Maybe I can finally move on- start living life almost as if this doesn't affect me anymore". Hope is a necessary reflex, but a painful and perplexing curse.