Everything outside looks jagged, not right. But still, I stand there, a little me, just staring out. Why? Because the hope... it just won't leave.
It’s foolish, I know, but every single day, I still look for him. I imagine him walking up the path, calling my name "Zaynu, Zaynu".
It feels silly, like waiting for a star to fall back into place, but The Hope Remains. It’s a stubborn thing, this hope, stuck right in my chest, even when everything else is shattered.