healing

Fate's latest casualty

I am a big dreamer, “passionate” to the point of mild obsession.

My dream that I have talked about again and again for years was, is, studying in the UK. Has always been. You can say it was a common goal for us especially from a particular high school. It’s like your run-of-the-mill paris/rome dreams. I can honestly say that this dream had claimed most if not all of my young teenhood life.

Funnily, in late 2009 the dream solidified specifically to Keele University. I have no idea why I had become so into Keele but it was all I ever dreamt about. During that time, there was an exam that you could actually get a scholarship from and understandably I tried and barely even reached it. I have always known subconsciously that I’m only a little above average at best, so looking back, it was actually as expected.

Fast forward multiple years, multiple failures and the ever growing worry that I might not make it… I was left with abandoning Keele (and my then-dream major) altogether and just hope I could go to similar campus-like universities. I applied and was accepted to all but I couldn’t accept any due to lack of scholarships. Years after that rejection I still find it quite sad and bitter whenever I think about it too much. I vaguely remember not having the heart to even look at my letters – in which I hastily hid under all my unwanted memories.

I made excuses and found “silver linings” only to feel the remnants of sadness. Always. Even if I had 99% accepted of the fact, 1% was still wishing. A sad, sad, wish.

It was a perpetual reminder of my incapabilities, of my insecurities, of my many manifestations of negativities.

Today, while I still dream that dream, I regarded it more of a daydream.

A fleeting moment where I let go without consequences, having untethered my mind to the gravity of reality. 

Until I looked back recently and felt a tug on my sleeve in the wind of my train of thought.

That tug had made me felt true, pure undoubted relief of my unachieved dream. Something I could never even dreamt of feeling.

“An air of mixed feelings, beneath fallen ceilings”.

I was… surprised to say the least. Because it has been more than 6 years.

More surprisingly, that reprieve had opened a floodgate of happiness in me. Even though the happiness left as quick as it came, that respite, that unadulterated, complete, faithful acceptance of the whole dream thing was what I had actually wanted all along.

To finally let go something that actually isn’t really worth holding on to.

Even if it was for a moment.

Because it means I am

finally,

finally

healing.

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2 thoughts on “healing

  1. Lydia Tewkesbury says:

    Yes! I LOVE this! I think one of the most exciting things about being adult is seeing those seemingly world-ending misfortunes from your teens as suddenly quite small in the terrifying vastness of your life. There is something thrilling about realising that you got through it, and you’re stronger because of it, so now you can let the pain go.

    Thanks for writing this. You really got me thinking 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

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