I feel the genuine, unadulterated tears meander down the side of my cheek, and realise my happiness streak has ceased to exist. I wish, hope, crave, will it to return- but promises like those don't exist. You have to fight the fear and pain again.

I though it was going to be OK this time, I really really did. It's all the hope that hurts the most. Next time, I won't make the same mistake again. I won't hope the sadness is gone; I'll just wait for it to return.