Leaving the dream

I dreamed of cold last night. Cold so piercing my fingertips turned blue. Or was that today, as I was being baked alive by the ferocious sun? It was a wish, then, not a dream. "A dream is a wish your heart makes" - snippets of that childhood song enter my mind. Seems I've been living my life half in my head for a long while now. I'm only at this moment shaking out the glitter and star-sparkle of fantasy and re-entering the realm of reality. And it hurts. Not that the fantasy was much better - no, fantasy is not the word, hopeful blindness would be more appropriate. I deliberately shut my eyes in the staunch hope that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't right. Unfortunately, I am and at this point, nothing short of a massive restructuring of reality can convince me otherwise.

Final thought: Optimism is for the lucky ones. Truth is for the rest of us.