The Dreamer

Dreaming is something that comes quite naturally to me. A little too naturally perhaps...

How easy it is to find myself in the middle of a flight of fancy, or optimistic frenzy of pursuit, only to have my ever-hopeful heart (maybe this will be my time!!!) dashed upon the rocks into a million pieces.

This pattern of "flying up on the wings of anticipation- it's as glorious as flying through the sunset... it almost pays for the thud." (name that author) has been one I'd give nearly anything to break. It's hurled me down into depression and the land of pessimism more than just a few times. It's made me nearly believe that dreams really DON'T come true. It's bought me a membership card into the club that thinks that the "if you work hard enough, you can do anything" mantra is a bunch of malarkey.  It has pelted me with feelings of worthlessness, self-doubt, and insecurity.

It seems, from where I sit, that those who "walk calmly along"  through life (continuation of previous quote)  are the safe ones. Those who just take each day as it comes to them. Without question. Without dreaming. Without wondering what life could  be, and instead taking the cards as they fall.

But then that little part of me...that tiny flickering light of hope that somehow is never fully extinguished despite the constant dousing it receives as the storms of life rage strong...catches the tiniest wisp of breath...roaring back to flame as though nothing could ever, ever quench it's fire.

The dreamer dares to dream another dream.

And maybe, just maybe, THIS time will be her time.