A Year Ago

A year ago, I had a thousand questions.

Where would I go?

Who would I be?

What would I do?

Today, I have a couple answers.

I know where I belong.

I have an idea of who I am.

I am sure of what to do.

A year ago, I thought anxiously of friends and how to make them stay.

What do I need to do?

Today, I understand that I will always have people around me.

I don’t have to do anything but love them.

A year ago, I planned with no room for error, change, or the unexpected.

Would I have enough time?

Today, I know the fragility of precise plans.

I trust that things won’t go as I expect, and that’s for the best.

A year ago, I felt like a huge world was spread out in front of me, waiting for something to happen.

Would that feeling go away?

Today, I realize that feeling is constant, although it isn’t as terrifying as I once thought.

We are perpetually stepping forward into a world that we have barely seen.

That is what hope was a year ago, what it is today, and what it always will be.