As a little girl, I’d believed that all dreams can come true if you just believe enough in them. I wished on as many stars as I could, hoping to scope out the first one every night. As I got older, I believed they can come true if you believed enough to work toward them. At this point in life, I’m seeing how impossible they both are.
The dreaming never ends; just seems to mature. In the last almost-decade, I’ve been seeking my dreams in the realm of “wills.” My will. Society’s will. The heart’s will. The mind’s will. But ultimately, God’s will. Sometimes the wills collide, sometimes they are galaxies apart. Still, no will has any meaning if it doesn’t collide with God’s. I’m too small, frail, weak, and human to ever mess that bad boy up.
I just turned 25 a few days ago. I’m still a dreamer, and the universe is my limit. I think a dream died today. I wonder which one has come to take its place.