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I'm many things to many people. An introvert. An optimist. A passivist sometimes, a fatalist. I've even been accused of being an idealist.
And they all agree I'm a dreamer. Apparently that is a very bad thing.
Feeling little-girl whimsical because someone told me, as if I don't already know, that I dream too much. A habit, I'm told, I have to break if I'm to make it in this big, bad world. All my fantastic, impossible, silly, 80" queen-sized dreams....brushed away like invisible specks of dust.
On the phone with my mother, convincing her that I'm not going to settle for anyone described as being suitable. Prince Charming was a lot of things..tall, dark, handsome but 'suitable'..? I think not. Holding back a sigh as I tell her I'm not waiting for unrealistic dreams to come true, I just want to be happy.
At lunch with my friend as she spiritedly waves her fork in the air, in complete agreement because 'happiness,' she tells me, 'is everyone's goal. That's what all this mad rush is about.' Gazing at people rushing about, watching life pass us by while we lunch. Reminded of a class years ago and the professor's slow pacing as he said 'Very often in our relationships we're saying I don't want to be happy, I just want to be with you.' Thinking there's a contradiction there somewhere and an important lesson waiting to be learnt. Grasping at the intangible. Surely a job for the dreamer?
Watching students file out after handing in their assignments, smiling and murmuring until one of them gets my attention about the assignment they were given. 'I find it strange that people desire to feel a certain way. Life is about experiences. Live, then let go,' while smiling sweetly at me. Dazedly smiling back, feeling my gut clench and lunch-time reassurances withering away. Am I so wrong then that I desire to feel a certain way? He doesn't understand the 'I'm glad you don't know my mom' remark but smiles politely anyway.
And now, lying in bed, feeling the burden of my thoughts and the weight of my decisions, past and present...hesitant and unsure of the right answers. Feeling panic because I'm not sure I even know the question. Knowing that I can make all of this go away simply by clicking off that mental switch and withdrawing to a secret place where there are no questions and no answers. Where lines between reality and unreality blur so easily.....but no, I'm trying to break the habit. Thinking that everyone is wrong. I'm not a dreamer, I'm an escapist. But who wants to argue semantics?