We can only speak of hope
My relationship to myself is mediated by the presence of the other person, by what he is for me and what I am for him. To love any body is to expect something from him, something which can neither be defined nor forseen; it is at the same time in someway to make it possible for him to fulfill this expectation Yes, paradoxical as it may seem, to expect is in someway to give: but the opposite is none the less true; no longer to expect is to strike with the sterility the being from whom no more is expected. It is then in some way to deprive him or to take from him in advance what is surely a certain possibility of inventing or creating.
Everything looks as though we can only speak of hope where the interaction exists between him who gives and him who receives.