Maybe I build my hopes up
too high and too fast.
Maybe I tend to blow things up
completely out of proportion.
Maybe I create whole fantasy worlds
in my head
so everything can go the way I want.

Maybe the real world is not that kind
and nothing ever goes to plan.

Maybe I am stupid and naïve
to keep loving so freely
when I’ve been hurt so many times
but I will keep loving
and I will keep hoping
and I will keep dreaming
and maybe
everything will be good
this time.

– for Ruth, who keeps me full of hope