When do you give up?

When do you realise it’s just some trick of the light, something in the imagination that makes you think you’re seeing something when you’re not?

Do you keep going back, even when your best friends think you crazy?

How long do you give it?

How do you keep the faith when everyone doubts your sanity?

What morsel of hope do you need to encourage you to believe?

How many times have I asked myself these questions?

How many excuses have I made to take the path through the woods, even when the track over the hill is quicker, less muddy, more populous, with fewer terrors?

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