There is no strength in optimism.
A desperate, frantic attempt to claw at what's letting go of you.
Stretching your arms and your fingers to hold, for some more time perhaps, something which can't be with you, close and comfortable, without end.
Begging and pleading, ignoring fact and embracing fantasy, to have what you cannot.
There is strength in being able to let go.
All things leave. Let it go and be the same. Accept and forget and abandon. Be like it never was.
I would want to see you do that, someday.