Who's next in line?

Chat log - me and my cousin Ashvin.

Rowan says:
man

Rowan says:
are you sure there's something you aren't telling me?

-=( ^shvin )=- DX says:
me?

Rowan says:
yeah

Rowan says:
like

-=( ^shvin )=- DX says:
oh, I got civil married today

-=( ^shvin )=- DX says:
and my religious wedding

-=( ^shvin )=- DX says:
is on Saturday 6 December

Rowan says:
oh nah I'm not talking about that

Rowan says:
I'm just asking if a dog crapped in front of your door

Rowan says:
or maybe you lost a pen

Rowan says:
WHAT THE FUCK MAN

Hope

Hope is born from a single ray of sunshine, piercing through the heavy clouds which have sieged your world. Bursting through the darkness, it illuminates and shines through your heart, making sense of the world and everything else. Hope: the feeling that something beautiful is about to come. To know that the heart will soon be happy, to know that it will soon be full and no longer bleeding. To know that very soon, darkness will be nothing but a lingering feeling. There is no greater joy than to feel your hopes, especially those which were sowed since long, bloom. Breathing and blooming into life, hope becomes joy, and birds of happiness sing amidst flowery gardens.

The hope of another life.

The hope of a better life.

But some hopes, despite having been sowed with deep and true love, do not seem to bloom. And we then realize that we have never truly stepped out of the darkness, and that there is still a heaviness cloaking our hearts. Those hopes... those dead hopes... are never watered again.

Broken hearts... broken hopes.