What dreamers dream

Tenuous talk gives way to silence mingling with the stench of stale air, cigarette smoke, and worn car upholstery. From the back seat I stare out the window, longing for something, but for what I don’t know, perhaps anything. My mind wanders, a common escape, and I day dream of my future self day dreaming of me, remembering a time when hope faltered with unnerving regularity, and the path ahead was anything but certain.  I imagine I can hear him, me, whispering reassurances.

Take heart, my little dreamer, fate’s fetters have no strength to bind us. We bind and unbind ourselves only from within. Shed your fears for strength wrought from so many victories, large and small alike, and brave a new path. Walk ten or ten-thousand, knowing there is one right for you, and that you will find it. Know too that, once on your path, there will be those too frightened to stray from theirs for fear of having to begin again. They will beckon, plead, and jeer, but let their calls to rejoin them go unheeded, for no matter which path you choose, you’ll never walk it alone.

I am frightened, ashamed, and shed a tear. Can I be this person? I don’t feel their strength inside of me. But maybe it is there, buried, waiting for me to find it. I search my heart and find a desire unfulfilled for fear. Perhaps today, just this once, I will risk failure for the hope of success, and my dream will smile, thinking back to the day everything changed for the better.