My Dream

I used to feel this strong desire to live in New York City.  It was an almost painful yearning for something that I thought may never happen.  My mom told me that I shouldn't, but if I did, that she was coming to live with me as my protection!  Numerous other family members and friends told me that NYC was a nice place to visit but not a preferential place to live.  I felt as though my dream was just that, a nice idea, a disappearing life that I had planned for myself.  With all the negative responses, I kept fiercely fighting back for my dream.  I thought that if I wanted it bad enough, it would eventually happen.

Now, I don't feel that strongly about it.  After my boyfriend and I went to visit recently, my fierce passion about living in NYC died.  Do you want to know the reason why?  It's not because I stopped loving New York.  My dreams didn't disappear either.  What happened was this: I finally realized that it was possible for me to live in New York.  My dream was entirely attainable.  I was always told and had always thought that I was dreaming too big or not being realistic.  While I was there, however, I couldn't stop thinking about how attainable my aspirations are. 

I want a big life.  I mean, really big.  I have so many plans, so many ideas, and I plan on doing all of them.