Death of Dreams
by MW Cook
Do you, um, have a minute?
Because I think we need to talk. Have a seat.
I’m not too sure how to begin…
I want you to remember that I respect you. I love you. And I believe that you are your own person and you have to make your own choices and follow your own path.
And I’m not judging you. God knows I have enough problems of my own to handle without trying to handle yours.
But I’ve noticed something and I thought I ought to bring it up.
What happened to you?
Remember how you used to talk? All those wild dreams you had? You were going to save the world, weren’t you?
You had it all planned out, too. Well, some of it at least. You had a mission. You had a goal. An epic quest, as it were. You were going to stamp out hunger or write a book or bring spiritual enlightenment to a dark place. You pinned quotes and posters that reminded you of your God-given quest all over your dorm room. You annoyed people to death with your constant rantings about that quest. We all knew you had great things coming your way. And not the normal, run of the mill great things. Not just a nice job, sexy spouse and fat credit account. Oh no. None of those were nearly enough for you. You didn’t want to own the world. You wanted to save it. To fix it. To leave it better than you found it.
Do you remember? Can you remember what it felt like? Gathering together with your friends and getting the adrenaline pumping? Some days you felt like you could run into the streets and get to work right away.
And you almost did!
You even kinda started.
When did you settle?
Did your dream change? It’s okay if it did. Like I said, it’s your life. You’re a good person, even if you let go of the dreams of your past. I really believe that.
I just wonder…
Do you still dream?
Because if you do … when are you going to wake up and build it?
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