The Dreams I'd Like to Keep
I have several dreams in my pocket.
I keep them close at all times. Despite how old the jeans may be, or if the pocket is full of random nothings, or if it means squeezing the dreams between my hips and the waistline of my leggings, I just know that I must hold onto these dreams.
These dreams reflect my seven-year-old self watching the Academy Awards with my parents, seeing the glamorous beauties walk down a red carpet.
I knew then that I wanted to write. I want to write for film and television and tell the stories that resonate with audiences and bring people together. I do believe I’ve been saved by the sincerity of other writers, and to give that to someone else, it would mean the world to me.
I've had these dreams since I started writing plays and screenplays in middle school. I had dreams entering college in the hopes that I would learn to craft my work, graduate, and continue to chase my dreams every single day.
And I still have those dreams; I often find my hand cupping them tightly in my pocket, to make sure they are not broken.
But I also have these other dreams clanging together in my bag. (That’s right, plot twist: I’ve also got a bag.) I've held onto these other dreams for years and years. When they come to me, I immediately toss them in my bag. I enjoy their weight on me, and I'd like to keep them around.
I saw The Parent Trap at a young age, and although I did not know the beauty of alcohol, I remember thinking I'd like to have a vineyard, so now I dream of my own vineyard in California. Acres of mine, a balcony view of the sun peaking behind the hills, freedom to create luxury and wine. Lots of it. Dennis Quaid can be there also.
I dream of adopting a cat and dog from a shelter that become best friends. My cat Millie, who recently passed, was the most lovely creature with four paws to walk this world, and though I'll never meet a feline who meets her standards, I'd love a couple furry friends who match her spunk.
I dream of buying my parents a beach house. They've provided for my brother and me from day one, and they ask for nothing in return. I'd like to buy them the beautiful house with the spectacular view, a walkway that bridges the sand and the deck, and a wrap-around porch with a complimentary porch swing.
I dream of my brother broadcasting the game of his dreams, and showing the world his impeccable talents, his worldly knowledge of sports, and his professionalism as he calls games after games.
I dream of my best friends finding the happiness they have worked so hard for and hoping that we can share this happiness for many more decades to come, enjoying happy hours as the cool seventy-year-olds who still use Instagram. I dream of my boyfriend finding the joy in the world that he has given me through his goodness and patience, and I dream that he will finally see the Mets win, because maybe one day they will.
I dream of writing in a residency for a few months. Finding some solace and carving out time for my pen, paper, and solitude.
I dream of wandering around Amsterdam and filling my soul with the architecture and gallivanting off to Bruges for a fairytale afternoon.
I dream of being alive when they truly find the cure to cancer, to ease the minds of men, women, and children around the world and walk day in day out of a disease ridden world.
I dream of being friends with Brie Larson and Olivia Wilde, and showing them the characters I have dreamt for them.
There’s more: I dream of camping on a beach again; of learning all of Nicki Minaj’s rap to “Monster” instead of just really knowing the last few lines; of hosting a New Years Eve Party where the theme is glitter; of waking up one morning with no shoulder pains; of finding the courage to change my hair and not complaining; of mastering the perfect margarita, and forgetting what I did to make it perfect.
These dreams—they’re big and they’re small. They’re monumental and they’re tiny. I have these many dreams and I hear them rattling behind me every second of every day.
I am passionate for the written word, and I will fight for my dream every second of every day, because I have been blessed with this desire to succeed, and I cannot see anything else.
But these dreams behind me, I look at them often. I pull them out to check on them, make sure they're in tact. I'd like to achieve some, most, a few, any.
Because my dreams need me just as much as I need them. We keep each other alive and well, encouraging one another to lead and follow. And some day, we will meet in the middle.
Happy Holidays to all, hang on to your loved ones and your dreams, and treat them well.
[Photo by Juliette Kibodeaux.]