I walk with my dreams shoved deep in my pocket, unsure of where to put them, what to do with them. I don’t want to take them out in fear the wind might blow them away. I don’t want to put them in a safe place in case I forget where the safe place is. So I keep them shoved deep in my pocket and occasionally put my hand in to make sure they’re still there. I smile. I still have them with me.

Waiting hurts. Forgetting hurts. But not knowing which decision to take is the worst of suffering.

Uncertainty is the refuge of hope.