Today I emerge from the tunnel. I sought a hope and failed. Now I acknowledge I have no control and accept my failure.

This time was not as bad as the the last one. Only three months had I spent this time compared to the six months the time before. My speed at discernment is increasing: I no longer hope against the hopelessness and wait. I allow for deficiencies, but once the pattern is set, I cease to believe.

I am learning. I am learning to see more clearly the difference between the good and the bad, the worthwhile and the worthless. I am seeing more clearly the difference between those who care about me and those who say they do, those who play at friends and those who live it daily.

I hope the lessons that I have learned fail to taint me with cynicism as they did when I was a teen. I may have, in my estimation, lost today, but I have learned lessons I would never have been taught otherwise. And although I feel that I have lost three months of my life to effort on a single person, I know that I might have found myself in this same empty state today but without the greater experience and wisdom I have now had I not tried.

Although this journey feels to have been a bitter one, I have learned much more about myself than I had known before, simply because I took the chance. I have found qualities in myself that I don’t like, such as unwarranted jealousy at times and at others, limited patience. But I have found that there is much more good than bad. I have seen that I care intensely, that I make myself vulnerable, that I listen without judging, that I comfort the broken. I am grateful to say that I believe I am to others the friend I desire to find.

And although I failed this time, I will still build the relationships I desire to have. It may have hurt to have cared and attended to another so intently and not received the same, but I don’t regret exposing the delicate flower of my soul. I am not ashamed to have cared.