I can't decide if I am trying to be realistic or I am just giving into cynicism in order to protect myself from the inevitable pain of living.

To live is to hurt...to act is to bring pain...but there is still beauty and wonder...even at the lowest levels of human misery...things we never would have known or seen unless we fell from such a great height and suffered in such a manner that only serves to point back to the cross.

I can wish...and hope for Love to win...to save the day.

But the test is one of endurance...how long can I go on while feeling as though all I hold dear is an infinite number of lifetimes away?