Each time my heart is broken in this war, out of a primal sense of self-preservation, I vow that I will never allow myself to feel that kind of debilitating disappointment, devastation, and pain again. I can’t bear it, I tell myself. It is in the darkest moments with cancer and as I recover from the latest defeat that I say “Fuck hope” and forbid my mind and heart from creating happy visions of a distant future that is entirely unlikely. I’m afraid to hope. And so in those moments, I don’t cling to hope to sustain me as so many say I should. Rather, I reject it.
