I am a dreamer.
Always have been.
Ever since I was a little child, my fantasy and dreams have often saved me from the cruel, cold world we sometimes call reality.
For me, my dreams and fantasy were a way to cope with all the deaths in my family.
My little sister, my grandfather, my great-grandmother, my first dog, my second dog, my uncle, …
It was a way to cope with things that didn’t make any sense to me.
Why would a normal, rather healthy, happy person commit suicide?
Why would a healthy, adorably sweet dog die?
Why did those people had to be taken away from me?
Were they making me TOO happy?
Was that a sin?
It became an automatism for me.
Whenever things get too hard, too real.
Of course there comes a time when I have to leave my beautiful world and come back and face reality.
Face the problems, the issues, the situations.
And I do.
And it’s still hard, it is, every time again, but in a way, it’s easier when I first visited my fantasy world.
Also, my dreams are what define me.
They are what shapes me.
And for that, I’m not afraid and ashamed to say that I’m a dreamer.
I’m proud of it.
And as long as I can, I promise to never stop dreaming.
With all my heart I believe that a person needs to dream.
Because they give you a goal.
Something to reach for.
Therefore I say: Keep dreaming.
Keep chasing that dream.
And who knows, maybe one day, it ‘ll be more than just a dream.
Maybe one day it ‘ll be something you can be proud of.
Something you actually have accomplished.