There are days when I feel emotion bubbling just below the surface. I grasp for words that are just beyond my reach. There’s a hollowness that seems to fill me. Today is one of those days.
My childhood was a happy one. I had a family that loved me. I was never afraid to dream.
But when I try to visualise my future, when I try to reach for a dream, I’m left grasping for air. It’s difficult to admit you’ve only got a blank wall ahead of you. For some, maybe that would be an inspiration. Maybe that would be a clean slate to write your dreams on.
Can you lose the ability to dream?
Maybe I’m searching for a guarantee, when life doesn’t hand those out.
It’s difficult to admit to anyone else that you’re afraid, when most days you can’t even admit it to yourself. What’s worse is that you’ve set yourself apart so no one’s close enough to see that fear.
It’d just be nice to hear one person say that it doesn’t matter what I choose. It doesn’t matter if I fail. It’d be nice for someone to say they believed in me, that there’s faith for me somewhere out there. And that ultimately, no matter what happens, everything will turn out all right.
But that’s just a lie I tell myself on sleepless nights.
