I realized something this summer.
You know how people have dreams and goals and hopes for the future?
Yeah… I don’t.
I don’t know why. I used to dream about everything. I used to have the biggest dreams. I used to try to push myself toward them. Set goals. Try to reach them.
Then I stopped.
And you, know, I can’t figure out when that happened. When in the past four to six years I just stopped dreaming almost all together. But I did.
And I know why though.
If you don’t dream.. If you don’t have goals… If you don’t get your hopes up… Then you can’t watch them fall.
And somewhere in the past few years, I saw enough of my dreams die that I stopped having them. I got my hopes up enough times only to be utterly disappointed when something didn’t fall through that I learned not to get them up so high.
How depressing is that?! My goodness!
And I don’t even know if I should try to change it or if really, it’s smart not to dream. If you don’t have expectations, you don’t have anything or anyone failing to meet them.
I don’t know.