- loss of love
- loss of someone to talk to
- loss of hope
- sunk cost (as callous as this is to say)
we all need dreams to keep us going through this life – something to look forward to, something to wait for us just around the corner. and the bleaker life becomes, the more intoxicating these dreams feel, and the more reckless one becomes in pursuing them.
the illusory oasis tempts us most in the absence of any other source of water. when all doors are shut, the first that opens gets to dictate the terms. so i can’t fault her for clinging to this promise, since what better offer can we make her? an unfurnished bedroom in isolation where she’s condemned to wonder what else could’ve been made of her life? where else she could’ve been; who else she could’ve loved? some – any – better end for her than this? but here, in the antiseptic and cigarette-stained walls of the project housing unit, she realizes that no greater hope is left for her than this. this is what she is, and this is all she ever could’ve been.