I am an eternal optimist. I always have been. I believe in certain things. I believe things will always work out in the end. In fact I expect them to. I believe good things will happen for me, to me. I believe I deserve them. I believe wholeheartedly in someday.
Each morning I wake up knowing that the day's possibilities are endless, full of promise, full of new hope. I also know that if somehow today falls short of wonderful, tomorrow will be along soon and it might turn out just so. In fact it probably will.
Eternal optimism.
Eternal optimism lends itself to a little indulging in eternal longing. Longing, that wanting, that desire, that yearning for something one wishes for so deeply within their heart. That something I have always wanted, I have always hoped for yet somehow it has always been just beyond my fingertips, just beyond my reach.
I am not talking about a sort of lusty longing, something that might spring from a protracted affair with a frivolous notion. Or the longing for something a la mode, something everyone wants. Or the longing for something that glitters before ones eyes and is borne from an earthly desire.
No, the eternal longing in my mind is something quite different. The longing I have is for something real, something I know, something I've seen. Something I know to be true, something I know I can have, something I believe I will have.
It's not a romantic notion but visceral reality. It's real and I will optimistically wait for it. My longing will remain hovering blithely above, reminding me to be patient, reminding me to reach and to believe that one day it will be in my grasp. My longing pushes me forward with a tender momentum. Propels me to stay the course, believing, eternally, that my wish, my unrelenting wish, my heart's most precious desire is soon to be in my hands. To have and to hold...it will be mine.
Eternally optimistic am I.
Indeed.
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