“Next time,” are two words that build hope, even in their futility. They’re a veiled promise that someone likes you enough to want you in their life. Yet sometimes, these words seem more like the distant lights on the horizon at sea.
When years on end, said next time keeps falling through, you start to wonder if waiting for yet another next time will ever be worth it. Eventually it becomes so wearisome, you can’t fathom why you’re still sticking around. Except, having nowhere else to go is practically the same as waiting.
So what is there left to say when the most unreliable person in your life is also the most constant? In the end, I still take every statement of “Next time…” as a glimmer of hope that perhaps there is a future to speak of.