They're pulling me down again.

We all have our anchors. Things that hold us down, keep us awake late at night. Keep us from moving on. You could say hope is like an anchor-or false hope anyway. Hope keeps us waiting, waiting for that call, waiting for a sign that someone you lost still cares. It's this waiting that eats people up on the inside, and they know what it's doing to them, but so many people have told us all to never loose hope- so they keep hoping. Hope is the anchor.