Mis-savoring hope

Hope knocked gently at today’s door. Just a little peak, but I greeted it with wide open arms.

My family took witness to my joy over several hours.

Pacing around. Can’t stand still. Unable to calm down.

I actually thought I was anxious (as usual) because I was afraid that Hope would never come through the door. That Hope would not come see me after all.

But my family said something different.

“You must be excited,”

My family was right too. I was happy to see hope at all. That Hope had came so close to me after a long time away.

Why did I feel hope with anxiety instead of excitement?

I have no reason to meet hope with anxiety.

I have every reason to meet hope with excitement.

I want to savor hope the way hope tastes like.