The beauty of hope . . .

My life today. I am somewhere between perfectly happy and completely miserable. Isn't that weird? I tend to alternate between two extremes as I disect my thoughts. I'm such a people person. . . so if you know me, than you are way less likely to see the dissatisfied side. I only even see that side when i am alone with my thoughts, like now. And if you know me, you've probably gathered that I'm being minorly exagerative. . .
My life is actually fabulous and I think I am a really great person to be. I'm just loosing hope by having nothing to hold onto but hope itself.
What if i don't make it? I put everything I have into something that I only hope will work. It's weird, that used to be enough. . . but a couple years can change a lot when they are full of big grown-up decisions. The disappointments built up until I expected bad things to happen so I packed up and left the place full of bad decisions and big disappointments that were not even my own and I found hope. A multitude of it. I would see the big building across from the university I longed to go to and cry. Could I really do it? Could I really finish what I started after everything that happened? Was it still in me? Did the dream really live through being told that the thing I wanted to do wasn't God's will, wasn't a ministry, wouldn't change lives and wasn't worth their time? Did the dreams really live? They did. And every day I walk to class and see those big buildings and feel like I made it. I'm overwhelmed. The buildings, the university and the whole campus still scream hope.
Some days it's enough. Some days, I want seven back up plans cause the road is hard.
The good news is. . . I've never given up once in my life so you'll probably see me finish and start over a thousand times on the way. If the constant agony of the past didn't kill the dream, doubts, fears, bad grades and finals sure won't.
I miss the me that didn't know disappointment this big, but I guess she had to grow up. Maybe the sting of dissapoint wrapped up in betrayl, manipulation and lies makes the beauty what might be a million times sweeter. I'm gonna make it, I know I will. . . but I might have to stop and breathe and write 1,000 times a long the way.