Sometimes I remember it all:
I see my name, my desk, papers…
And I just want to cry because I see myself in there.
It has been years since I gave it up,
since I realized it was a dream that needed to go.
It was always a fantasy,
a fictional future built with hopes and dreams.
I needed that imaginary world back then, it allowed me to continue,
it has brought me to where I’m standing now.
But I miss that dream so much,
nothing has replaced it,
nothing has even been close.
It was my dream, and now it’s gone.
In a way, giving it up has made things easier:
less sadness, frustration and disappointment.
But today nothing matters because I’ve remembered my dream,
I saw it
smiled at it.
And I feel so sad, so deeply sad.