This time we're not giving up

I'm guessing I've talked a lot about my dreams a lot here; but I've recently clocked that they mean so much to me, because they're all I have.

But if all we have are dreams, what happens if they aren't enough? What'll happen if they fade, and we fade with them? What or who do we turn to then, when we're left standing out in the rain, realising everything you though once could be possible has lead you a thousand miles south of where you want to be, and you've spent all your hope, like your matchsticks? Where do we find the strenght to carry on?

Leaving schools something I've looked forward to almost since I set foot in those corridors and classrooms that I tread on an almost daily basis. It's meant to be the start of your life! But its just hit me: what if these are the days of our lives, the times we'll miss the most when they're gone. Will we sit in the lonely corners of our room, too late at night with only balls of tissues for company, and your tea that's rapidly losing its heat? Will we too burn out and lose our fire? Or do you take the oppertunity to grab onto today with all the strength you have left?

Because, when it comes down to it, when it really counts, dreams are there to be followed. I don't believe that they can only lead to heartbreak and jadedness (I'm not even sure if that's a word to be honest). I can't, I won't let myself. It's when those "what if's" start to consume you that you notice you have two choices, your road is forked. One path leads to misery and cynicism. This one's called giving up. And if you ask me, and I'm right here in that place, I'm at those cross roads, it looks so damn easy. It means that if you never try, you can't fail. And it's that failure that I believe we're most afraid of, being left with only the broken dreams and crushed expectations that can occur if you risk everything.

But this other path, it's called hope. It's scary as hell, and it'll be hard to follow for sure. It means facing your fears head on, staring right into the eyes of confusion and self doubt, but doing so with a hand of dreams and swearing never to let them go. No matter how sucky it seems, giving them the oxygen to breathe and burn with integrity, faith and courage. And that's where you can find me. I've made myself that little promise never to surrender that spark of hope, that sometimes feels like its all I have left. I'll spend the rest of my days ankle deep in the undergrowth of the mess that'll inevitably occur when you chase these dumb dreams. It means that right now, all I can do is put that little bit of faith, all the things I love and all the hopes in my tired head into the hands of God, and trust that five years from now, all I can say definitely is that I won't have any regrets.