How could she deal with it? It was slowly eating her up inside…it hadn’t even been two hours since it happened. Two hours since her dream was stomped on and then picked back up, handed back and she was told to keep dreaming.
They had no idea did they. No idea at all. All the time and effort and hope she had put into that dream. They’d snatched it away, danced around on it, and gave it back; all dirty and crinkled and squished. She couldn’t blame them though, they hadn’t known it was her dream. She couldn’t blame them, but she wanted to.
She wanted to yell at someone. Tell them it was all their fault. It was their fault her dream was falling apart and she couldn’t find a way to keep it together. She wanted to yell at someone and then run away. But she couldn’t blame them, or anyone. She couldn’t blame herself. It wasn’t wrong to have a dream. It was never wrong to have a dream, but sometimes, she supposed, dreams just aren’t meant to work out.
Well, this one could, but she’d have to alter it and by then it wouldn’t really be her dream any more would it. No, it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be what she had imagined and thought about and planned. It wouldn’t be what she wanted. It would be something else, a hint at what could have been. That was just as bad as it not working out at all. It was so close to being her dream, but it wasn’t. It just wasn’t. She’d just have to accept that. She would have to decide if she could accept and enjoy her dream after it was cut up and pieced back together as something else.
She’d have to decide, but not right now. Right now she had to get used to the idea that her dream would never be the same.
Anguish. Stripped of something of extreme value. Hold the rumpled pieces up to God’s wisdom.
Sometimes your dream is all you have. Thats why alot of people will guard that dream with their life. Its not hard to have someone set your dreams on fire and it is easy to find a crowd willing to dance around it,like you mentioned in your post
I couldn’t have put it better myself 🙂
On a lighter note, I love the name of your page. Scribe’s Canvas. It is hard to come up with a good name when a million, or millions, are trying to come up with a name that desribes them and has not been taken already.
Aw, thank you!