I’m still a dreamer when I’m on the phone

Mom & Dad,

Tell me what’s worse - sitting miserably, wishing you could live the life of your dreams, or living your dreams and realizing you’re just as miserable as you were before? ’Cause I used to think it was the first one, and that the depression that came with this town was holding me down, keeping me back from living my life. Now I realize you can’t outrun sadness. And you know what the stupidest part is? Everything is exactly what I dreamed. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s perfect. And for some reason, I’m still sitting here, getting tearstains on this letter to you. This is the first time in my life I don’t know what I want, because I chased my dream - packed my bags, hopped on a plane, the whole thing - and I’m not any happier than I was before. Worse, even. You know, if this isn’t it, where else am I gonna go? What else am I gonna do? This is my only dream, and it’s not enough for me, I guess. But the real kicker is this: I can’t even call it a day and come back home, because the only thing that kept me going before was dreaming my dreams, and some days that wasn’t even enough. Now, I’m all out of dreams. I’ve got nothing left but you two, and for some reason, I’m over here and you’re over there. I’m not really sure why I’m not in my bed at home right now. You know, I haven’t slept comfortably in this bed for two months. And at this point, I’m kinda feeling like the relief of crawling back into my bed at home would outweigh the shame. But I’m not gonna tell you that or send you this. I’m going to tell you I’m happy, because the one thing worse than realizing that living your dreams contains just as much harsh reality as everything else in life is telling your parents that. I can pretend I’m still a dreamer when I’m on the phone.

Love you so much,