Cease to Hope, And You Will Cease to Fear.

I got up this morning and enjoyed my last breakfast with Grandma. We both teared up a little saying goodbye as I thanked her for her support. Cara has turned my parents, as I found out yesterday when my mom exclaimed "You go girl!" on a Facebook post Cara did of an Elizabeth Gilbert post. You know, the Eat, Pray, Love chick who's story of self discovery post divorce makes Feminists Swoon. Tell your divorce story! Tell your abortion story! All men are rapists if you only believe them to be!

I then caught a Lyft to the North Springs MARTA Station, where I haven't found myself in over a decade I think. Not much has changed. It still smells of stale urine everywhere in the station. The trains are still their same yellow, plastic selves on the inside. You can tell who else is going to the airport by their suitcases. I don't have any suitcases. I booked a super cheap trio of flights on kiwi.com, but the flights are on 3 separate airlines so I can't bring any suitcases and if I miss a connection I'm screwed. I have 4 hour layovers at Logan and Klefavik though, so I am hopeful I will make it.

Hope. That's a funny word. With so much going badly in my life right now, I thought it a good time to read some more of the Stoics. I read Epictatus a number of years ago when I was going through another difficult time, so I decided to pick up Seneca the other night at Barnes & Noble when I was shopping for a Gordon Ramsey cookbook for Maxwell. He's a little obsessed with the Master Chef TV show, so I thought it might inspire him to develop his culinary skills. Seneca is also the favorite Stoic of a recently made friend who has struggled with an incurable genetic illness. To accept horrible circumstances and just keep going with a smile on your face is the Stoic ideal. Because horrible things happen to us all. We can either sit around moping about it, or role up our sleeves and get to work.

I am travelling today and tomorrow back to Bergen because I believe it is the right thing to do. I only left in the first place because Cara said she needed space in marriage counseling. She told me there was hope for the marriage, and so I did a stupid thing. I gave her space. Having seen what she wrote my sister, I now know she just wanted me out of the house so she would have control over the kids and then could move for divorce. I still have foolish hope for the marriage. Cara is the love of my life. I will always love her, even after she throws me away. I fear to lose her, and so I continue to do things against my self interest.

So this morning on the MARTA train when I read in one of Seneca's letters cease to hope, you will cease to fear it really hit home. I have falsely been believing many things. That my wife still loves me and I can unharden her heart and win her back. That my parents love me and will support me through anything. That my friends will be there when I need them. I have to stop hoping to hold onto anything to stop fearing to lose it. One can't help but think of communist show trials where kids denouced their bourgeois parents to their deaths. I can see all my kids doing that now, in a very real a viceral way I never understood before. I also know that I could never hate any of them for it.

I have been disappointed by so many people in the past few weeks. I have become almost numb to the messages of hate and anger. Almost. I gave myself time to feel the pain Sunday, but then I rolled up my sleeves and got back to work. I am trying not to hope. I love Cara, so I will do the things I think necessary to earn her love. I will most likely fail. I love Maxwell and Zara, so I will try to insure they are educated and that I can be a part of their lives. I will likely fail. I love myself, and want to put my true and authentic self forward in every situation. I will fail. To hope for all these things is foolish. It only leads to fear that they will not happen.