I’m a person with few aspirations. One could call me shallow – in several aspects – or you could just say I’m not someone who dreams big. When I was a little girl, I had the typical dreams of growing up to be a star. You know, like how the Pussycat Dolls sang it. Then when I had my first puppy love, all that glitz and glamour made way for a blissful domestic life. Him and me, living on air, just staring into each others’ eyes all day long.
I soon learnt the importance of money, and how virtually everything in life is linked to it. Money is not everything, but you’ll certainly be nothing without it. My domestic fairytale dream turned into one with a glamourous wedding, which was (obviously) not achieved to any extent. No fancy rock, no fancy proposal, no wedding dinner… well, you get the drift.
While there is a part of me that has come to terms with this – out of logical circumstances – there will obviously be a niggling regret for the rest of my life. You can’t just get married again. It’s not the same. It’s akin to losing your virginity twice; you’re only fooling yourself.
To sound totally maternal and unlike the person I thought I was, there was another dream I thought was a sure-win: To make babies with the man I love, and experience the marvels of pregnancy and labour.
While I had the pregnancy part almost down pat, the labour just didn’t happen; unless you term the 12-16 hours of non-progressing contractions as “labour”. I still wonder what it would feel like to give birth – really give birth – to a child through your own sheer might. Pity I will never have that chance again in this life.
So there goes two of my most realistic down-to-earth dreams ever. Which leaves me down to… nothing.
I recall how I used to dream of going abroad for my tertiary education; to experience life away from here for a good educational purpose. Obviously I no longer qualify as “youth” and it is virtually impossible to have the same kind of schooling life when you already have 2 children.
I’m trying to think of a time when I can say I was having the time of my life… I can’t. There isn’t any.
While right now may be the best that I’ve ever had, it has also brought along some regrets where there used to be none. There was not ONE single thing I regretted, until I was well on my way to where I am now. And now it is too late to undo those regrets.
I’m walking in the shadows with no aim nor purpose; a person with no dreams left.
He asked me, is it not my dream to watch the children grow up? Honestly, no. They will grow regardless whether I watch them or not. What I want is a dream that is about me, for me; a self-centred dream, if you could call it that. I could disappear today, come back 10 years later, and the children would still have become little people – with or without me. But my dreams… they’re the stuff that remains only as glorious images in my head unless I proactively try to turn them into reality. I have none now.
And I didn’t even realise it until I was overwhelmed with nothingness and crying silently onto my pillow.
Life doesn’t always go the way we wish for it to be, but does it really have to be this hard to get something you want? Either it is time for me to grow up, or time to see a psychiatrist.
I am, fortunately, still thankful for each breath I take and each day spent in the love I’m unconditionally given. All this is just me. Something is awfully wrong with me. And yet despite it, the ones who love me still do so. Thank you thank you, and thank you. Please hold my hand and pull through with me on this. Take my hand so that I may let go of the regrets; embrace me so that I may be reminded what it is like to not be secluded in myself. Help me. Because I just couldn’t bring the words out of my mouth.