It seems a little bit upside down that being with the man of my dreams has meant, in specific realms, leaving some dreams behind. When I was a single woman, and deeply entrenched in what I believed about being a single woman, I had the dreams only a single woman can have – kinda like that whole ‘when I was a child, I spoke as a child’ thing.
Yes, I believed I would have a relationship, but a limited relationship, one in which we both lived our own separate lives and pursued our separate dreams, coming together at mutually agreeable moments – like orbiting bodies whose paths regularly (not to mention passionately and supportively) crossed. One like the one I'd already had for so long, always wishing it was more.
Yes, I believed I would have a relationship, but a limited relationship, one in which we both lived our own separate lives and pursued our separate dreams, coming together at mutually agreeable moments – like orbiting bodies whose paths regularly (not to mention passionately and supportively) crossed. One like the one I'd already had for so long, always wishing it was more.
It’s a bit of a ... conundrum. I definitely still have a lot of the dreams I did two years ago, and there’s no reason they have to die. But there are also some empty spaces, or maybe, more accurately, some blank slates – places where I didn’t dare to dream, and dreams for 2 that I never explored, yet ones that I hope now I get the chance not just to dream, but to fulfill.
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| Dream a little dream of we |
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