I dreamt of the me fifty years from now.
A stout, proud woman with a peaceful grin. She sits on the stairs of a quiet home in the middle of a forest.
A wild crown of silver curls envelop a tan heart shaped face.
And her soft hooded eyes, after all this time, haven’t lost their gaze that dreams of other worlds.
She thinks back to when those worlds were all she had. Too often the reality she lived in became too harsh.
She was easily confused and misled by her emotions and other people who felt she was easy to mold.
She had tons of false starts with underwhelming middles and dubious ends.
But here is where she wished to be all along. It was where she was happiest.
She remembers promises she made to herself many fulfilled, some broken.
She fell in love many times, and had a fragile heart which was broken more times than she could count.
But when she found him all of that no longer mattered, he was all she saw.
He held her in place and anchored her mind when she drifted too far.
When she lost him, she lost a piece of herself she knew she couldn’t get back. Not here, in the world of the material.
It took her a while, but she had finally rebuilt herself, like she helped so many others do in her life time.
It was the first time she felt whole, complete. To her it didn’t matter how long it took, just that it happened.