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The Dreaded Dream
Giving words to desire can be dangerously disappointing
Just recently, I wrote about not being able to find words for a dream. I had already put so many dreams to rest, none having been realized. And each of them had been put to rest because of decisions I had made around men.
It wasn’t necessarily their fault. I believe it was more my fault, actually. I thought I was doing what was necessary. In my marriage, his needs came first. My dream of finishing music school and singing opera died hard. I lived inside the paradigm my marriage provided, searching for something…anything that would suffice for a dream. For over 25 years, those dreams had him as the central character. It depended on his education, his job situation, his mood, his energy level. To no avail, marraige ended a few years ago. No more trying inside that box.
At the end of that one long and grueling lesson, I fell into another deep hole. I’m still trying to dig myself out of that one. It was an all-encompassing hole.
I had fallen in love with a man who I thought held the secret to everything that was beautiful. Every moment we spent together, traveling, working, teaching was like a dream. I learned so much from him about myself, about life, and relationships. There was no end to it…so I thought. But my falling in love with him provided…
