Realizing That You Were Wrong About Old Friendships, To Be

Most of the time, I'm quite glad to be incorrect. I've acquired a taste for being wrong. These past few pessimistic weeks especially, I've found that my ill judgement has proven to cheer life considerably! In expecting the worst, and then experiencing the better-than-worst, life has lightened to a rosier hue. And yes, I did just type "rosier hue" in all of its cliched glory. I don't know if I'm advocating negativity quite yet, though. And perhaps it's not pessimism-proved-wrong that is lending to my general contentment lately. But I've found personal verity in the adage "hope for the best, expect the worst." So in my silliness, I expected the worst of some people last week when I wrote "Old Friendships, To Be." And, while I have experienced those feelings iterated therein, and fully expect to feel them again, at the moment, I am happy in hoping for the best. However, if my somewhat more optomistic outlook leads to increased disappointment, I might have to revert to the dark shades I've been wearing. I think I prefer them to the pink glasses of disillusionment. However, the vision line is so fine! I'll do my best and report back, sir.