I've seen the world. I've walked barefoot in 9 different nations. I've gone to lunch abundant wealth and held close the shiver of devastating poverty. and i'll be the first to admit that when it comes to my dreams, when they brush my fingertips, my instinct is to take hold of them with an iron fist; to claw my way along, fighting tooth and nail, whatever it takes to see it happen...but deep inside me, beneath the flesh, there is a quiet whisper that says "let go"; "let me".
and so I do. relaxing that painful grip, blood rushes into cold fingers, bringing with it life! and I recognize that as much as it hurts to cut chucks of misplaced desire out of my life, "it's simple really...If it's not you, I don't want it".