꿈. 夢. Dreaming.

One day I will wake up, and I will make myself believe

That I was a graceful gentle woman who could speak what was on her mind

My parents will see who I really was, always happy and brave and excited about the smallest stupidest thing I saw.

My brother, well, he already knows who I really am.

I would make myself believe I had courage to approach him

tell him all the things I couldn’t before.

I would make myself believe I had the courage to stand up for myself.

That I didn’t have to tell her everything and everywhere I went.

I would make myself believe that I was really free to make my own choices

To pursue my own dreams.

Perhaps I’d make myself believe I was brave enough to do something daring.

To pursue medical school. Or to learn five different languages and travel around the world.

I’d wake up and the first thing I would do is scream. At the world

At the wretched treacherous world.

Then I would sing, because I had always wanted to sing, but was never brave enough to.

I would cry and cry and cry. I would be weak and helpless and wallow in self-pity.

Then I would get up and march forward. Pursue the dreams I had myself. Unafraid of failure.

Turning a deaf ear to discouragement. Turning a deaf ear to all the “what-ifs”

I would tell myself over and over again from Day 1:

“You only have one life to live…You only have one life to live…”

 

Then I will really wake up.

Wildly hoping that I had carried some of that courage with me back

in Reality.

 

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