Loaned and alone

We aren't who we want to be. We are what the society demands. We are what our parents choose. We don't want to disappoint anyone, we have a great need to be loved. So we smother the best in us. Gradually, the light of our dreams turns into the monster of our nightmares. They become things not done, possibilities not lived.

  -Adultery, Paulo Coehlo

She woke up in the morning and looked around. Nothing had changed. The colors on the wall, the table at the side, the wooden cupboard so carefully designed and built, the wine red curtains softly caressing the window sill. She smiled, like always. A thin lifeless smile. It was the same things she had seen as she closed her eyelids last night. There was no waking up from this dream.

Maybe that's what she had always hoped for. That one fine day she would wake and things would change, drastically. But then, little did she know that the world was as boring as it gets, nothing happens here unless you make it happen. That this wasn't a fairy tale, where one fine morning fairy godmother appears and grants wishes or removes problems with a swish of a wand. Oh, how much she hoped it was. And she blamed them for making her believe, for making her hope, for making her dream.