People will never stop disappointing you. They will leave you waiting night after night for the shine of their headlights in your dark driveway. They will stop calling you to ask for help or to tell you how they love you or just to say hello. They will tell your secrets to strangers and laugh about your flaws behind your back. They will fall in love with someone else, forgetting that you promised to spend forever together. They will forget to leave the light on; forget to leave the key under the mat; forget that you call this place home, too.

You will go looking for someone one night and find out they are not who you thought they were and you are, once again, alone.

You will go to sleep disappointed night after night—disappointed in the world or with yourself or with someone you still love despite it all or a combination of all three—and you will wake up on the other side of a different day feeling not much different than you did the night before.

People will never stop disappointing you, but you will survive it.

One night, when you least expect it, the right person will shine their lights into your driveway and they will keep your worst secrets and they will call in the middle of the day just to say hello.

One night, when you are just about to give it up, they will leave the front door open and they will let you in and they will let you make them into your home.