What if?
I don't ever get what I've dreamt of.
What if my wants have changed.
What if my needs have changed.
My heart is full and weary.
It is detached from the dreams that I had.
It is so far from who I thought I was made to be...
And yet, exactly in line with what fate had for me.
I hate admitting that.
Admitting that all the pieces of broken glass and clay form the subliminal reality of what I have always desired.
And now, the ideas of being a husband and a father seem far away.
Not in a form of self-assigned self-pity but rather, conscious awareness that that may not be part of my earthly assignment.
I pushed against what I was "made" for for so long so this is odd and honest and vulnerable.
Accepting this state of humble surrender.
Not laying my dreams to rest but rather, placing them in a safe, warm place to rest.
If the plan changes.
If I make that choice.
No longer when... but if.
Yours faithfully,
Love.
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