On Dreams

“It’s just like I told you,” she said. “I feel like I’m behind in everything. I’m not where I thought I’d be at this age, at this stage, at this point in my life.”

“I see,” he nodded. “Well, sometimes dreams aren’t realized not because you did something wrong, but because the dream was just that: a figment of your imagination.”

“But it feels like I messed up. Like others are realizing their dreams, and I’m deficient.” She put her head down.

“The great thing about dreams,” he said, “is they’re new every night. Dream a new dream. That other one has grown stale. You’re not the same person who dreamed it long ago. You’ve changed.”

She sighed.

“It’s ok to dream a new dream,” he said, as he put his arm around her. “The important thing is to keep dreaming.”

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