Shred of Hope (Original Story—exclusive for steemit, Featuring @mindfreak)

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Let me present you @mindfreak, the talented author of this post.

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Shred of Hope

My mother always told me that love was the greatest gift anyone could give. And that those opened themselves up to love would always find it.

But that was years ago.

Before she died. I did try to take her advice. But it was rejection, after rejection, after rejection.

And though I was trying to take my mother's advice, one can handle so much before they close themselves off.

I felt like I was going through the motions. Trying to go forward without a clear sense of direction.

And I was lonely.

I did the only thing that I could do. I kept going even though I ached Inside. Because, along with that ache was a shred of hope. That hope hung there fiercely, it was undying, unyielding, Even as I was torn through pain.

I was moving through the motions, finding no joy in life. Then he showed up.

He was playful, kind, and he would seek me out. He seemed to genuinely like and care about me.

But I was not stupid. I would not make the same mistakes I had made before. I spurned him over and over and over again. But he kept coming back.

His patience impressed me. He kept coming back no matter how many tines I tried to make him leave

But I knew what would happen if I let my barriers down. He could no longer want me. And I would be left broken, again.

Day after day I spurned him. And day after day he would come again, still smiling, still happy.

But one day he didn't come.

I waited, expecting him. But he did not come. Day after day, During the time I realised even though I had not let my barriers down, somehow he had snuck past them.

I was broken. I missed him. I wished he would come back. But he didn't.

My pain felt worse than ever before. I just wanted him to come back. I promised myself that if he returned I would welcome him back and open up.

But no matter how much I wished and hoped, the days continued by without him appearing.

The one day, as I sat wishing, longing for him to appear, I suddenly had a thought. Why was I waiting for him? He had already done his part. Now it was my turn. It was as though I had been struck by lightning. My joy returned in a flash. And that shred of hope grew into a mountain.

I went to his house, hope clutching my heart. I knocked on the door. We simply stared at one another. It was a long moment, but then a smile slowly spread across his face.

He and I were hardly separated from that moment. We were the best of friends and I loved him more than I could say.

My mother was right. Even though it may hurt, if you leave your heart open for long enough, someone will come to fill it.

Someone will come to stay. After all,

He came for me.

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