One more week until I'm dead-smack center of my 30s. This is neither where or how I thought I'd be at this point in my life.
When we're young, we have so many hopes and dreams, fantastic dreams and sky-high hopes. As we get older, these dreams give way to more realistic hopes and smaller dreams. Winning an Oscar or being a famous movie star or writer give way to simply being able to live comfortably in your own home with your family.
I thought I'd be living the high-life in L.A. as a writer or filmmaker by now. It's possible that can still happen, though honestly I know it gets slimmer with every year. More recently, my dream was to live a comfortable life with my wife and our menagerie, secure in the home we had built together. Even that dream has fallen by the wayside.
I didn't think I would be a widower before I was 35. I didn't think I'd be restructuring my life and my lifestyle at this point. I didn't think I'd be by myself, not after nearly a decade of being part of not only a team, but a WINNING team. I wanted so much more for myself than this.
I've taken to thinking of the things I need rather than the things I want for my birthday. Apparently I need new tires. I'm gonna have to finish this later, I can barely think right now.
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