🫀 The Dream I Thought I’d Have
⸻ ✧ late night confessions ✧ ⸻ grieving old dreams • rediscovering self • gentle strength
1:45am EST Monday
Sometimes I look back at the girl I used to be — the one who believed her twenties would be filled with rings, laughter, and little feet running through a house that smelled like Sunday breakfast. She thought by now she’d be married, maybe pregnant again, with a steady job and a partner who dreamed beside her. She had a plan.
And then… life happened. I met someone, fell in love, and stayed — even when it got hard. Especially when it got hard. Ten years later, we have a son, and I love that little boy more than anything in this world. But somewhere along the way, the rest of my dream started to fade.
I used to think love could fix anything. That if I held on long enough, forgave enough, believed enough — we’d find our way back. But the truth is, the man I built my future around never really built one with me. And I’m starting to accept that the life I wanted — marriage, more children, stability — may not happen with him.
I don’t say that out of anger. It’s more like grief. The quiet kind that sits in your chest when you finally realize a dream has died.
I still wish it could’ve been different. But deep down, I know I don’t want to marry him anymore. Even though it was everything I ever wanted — it’s just… gone.
And maybe someday, I’ll build a new dream. One that’s just mine this time.
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