hope you have it
Hope. My best friend, but also something much more metaphysical. My best friend came much later in life. Yes, I have long term best friends, I would classify three of my friends as best friends. However, I think Hope takes the cake. She is more than a best friend, acts like it and represents it.
Many people associate ‘best’ with the amount of time you have in relation to that friendship- but Hope. No. Not Hope. Hope and I have been friends since the first week of college in the late summer dew of 2021, the day we moved into the same floor of a twelve story building on the Northwest side of campus, tucked in the corner of our own world of self discovery; but we have been best friends, since April 17, 2022. That’s 1,269 days as of today, October seventh. I’ve been alive for 8,231 days; meaning I’ve known Hope for a mere 15% of my life. But that means nothing; no number of days nor hours spent together could decipher the impact and presence hope has had on my life.
Unlike my friends I grew up with she didn’t know me before. She didn’t have to be friends with me, nor stay friends with me. She chose to be friends with me. Intentionally, with every learned flaw, she chose to be there by my side cheering me on. No number of miles or time spent away from each other will ever intervene with her title. I could tell you a million and more descriptions, antics, and things about Hope that I admire, and aspire to come close to claiming- but no words would ever suffice for what she embodies. Hope would never, not even consider, sitting at a table I wasn’t welcome at. She has defended my name in a room I wasn’t in without pressure, nor credit, without question. She is sunshine, seeping joy and warmth on those around her. Fierce and intentional with her love, like a late summer night. The closest description I could put is hope itself.
Each mistake, misstep or fall I endure, she’s there, by my side, to help me back up. She cheers me on when nobody else does, listens and stands with me in my chaos. Points out silver linings on my darkest days, and never fails to text even when she knows I won’t respond. Somehow, no matter what, she always has the right words, even if it’s the lack thereof. She pushes me to be better than I was the day before, grows alongside me and reminds me to slow down. I often say I wish I could shrink ray her and carry around with me. No day with her by my side is a bad day.
I have a bracelet that I received as a gift from my close family friend, Tom, when I was sick for the second time. I suppose I was never not sick; but the second reoccurance was overwhelming- an unexpected storm without an emergency route. Tom stands with me in an unwilling fight. Often, people question how I, we, do it. How we continue to fight when we are consistently beat down. How we continue to grow when we are continuously cut. When our wins are minuscule in hind sight. And to that I say, with hope. It’s not easy, but it is our only choice. So we stand hand in hand, with hope wrapped around our wrists; reminding us each day not only do we stand together, but we stand strong and hopeful, not by default but by choice.
Hope is the path of light the moon shines on an evening I find myself lost in the woods without direction. Unconventional, inspiring and admirable. Hope stands as the moon, as I can trust with my deepest secrets and biggest aspirations. I speak to the moon with anticipation and excitement for days that have yet to come, feelings yet to be experienced. The feeling of knowing there is something between what I know, and what could be. Endless opportunity; even when all lights seem to be turned off, the ability to find light in the glow that seeps from the moon. Believing, without reason that good, will find you. Trusting that it will work out, even without a plan nor timeline. It is refusing to believe that my story ends here.
Hope is many things. My best friend, a reminder I chose to believe, a feeling. But overall it is the one thing, no matter how hard the world tries- it cannot take from me.
