In dreams...
This morning I woke from a most vived dream that Vilmos and I were moving into a tiny apartment on the top half of a quite small house. ...and I found myself somehow disoriented upon waking that I wasn't in my parent's home, but rather in my own.
I own a house. Huh. What an amazing thing.
...and there is furniture in this house. Mismatched, to be sure, and cat-draggled, but actual furniture. And children. ...and all of it together, all of it - this is my life. This is my life, and beside me is this man who shares in it with me; the two of us, against all odds.
How many choices, for good and for ill, chosen and kept or chosen and then painfully undone, have I had to make to reach this place, this living. I am too much a believer in free will and consequence to think it luck, or fate, or predestination; for all that, I am humbly grateful that this is my lot.
If this be a dream, then it is a good dream...
I own a house. Huh. What an amazing thing.
...and there is furniture in this house. Mismatched, to be sure, and cat-draggled, but actual furniture. And children. ...and all of it together, all of it - this is my life. This is my life, and beside me is this man who shares in it with me; the two of us, against all odds.
How many choices, for good and for ill, chosen and kept or chosen and then painfully undone, have I had to make to reach this place, this living. I am too much a believer in free will and consequence to think it luck, or fate, or predestination; for all that, I am humbly grateful that this is my lot.
If this be a dream, then it is a good dream...