The promise and possibilities that blank pages bring to a busy mind.
A promise of laughter after a hard and exhausting day.
A promise to me, that I'll keep swimming, no matter the current,
the temperature, or terrain.
I have a friend, who has a friend, who doesn't believe in promises. Because as the friend would say promises can be broken, or will be broken, or are meant to be broken. I'm not sure, but all I know is that they don't believe in promises. The idea really stuck with me. Promise is a word thrown around, much like love. I promise I'll give you chocolate if you just stop crying, I promise I'll make dinner every night of the week if you just... I promise, I promise, I promise...
It leaves me to think about the essence of promise. Why we love the word or the idea. Why we dwell on the promises of things, people, hopes, or dreams. I like the idea of a promise. It's hopeful. Pregnant with possibilities. And while we may be disappointed in the end, may we never be surprised by the fact that there will be more promise to meet us there.