Dreams: Invincible?

Last time, in my blog (The Invincible Dream), I wrote that I was waiting for a miracle — some quiet twist of fate, some stray coincidence that would breathe life back into a long-held dream. No, it didn’t happen. The miracle I kept hoping for — it came close enough to touch, perhaps, but still slipped through my fingers. So yes, it happened. And yet, somehow... it didn’t.

After nearly five years — four years and nine months, to be exact — I spoke to her again. And it felt warm, familiar, like opening a window in a room I thought was sealed shut. But if you recall, I had once asked: Is being in a relationship the same as being engaged? Back then, I wasn’t sure. Now, I know the answer. Or at least, I think I do. No, they’re not the same. Not at all. And yet, in some cruel twist, maybe they are — when both end in silence.

Back in those late 2000s, we let each other go. Not because we stopped loving, but because life had placed us in parallel lanes, tethered to others, unable to cross paths without burning bridges. We were afraid then — afraid of hurting each other, afraid of breaking something delicate. So we drifted, each holding on to the hope that the other would be happy, even if it meant from afar. I’m not sure if that hope made sense. Maybe it never did.

This time — in late 2010s — it was different. The fear had shifted. It wasn’t about us anymore. We weren’t afraid of wounding each other. We were afraid of hurting those around us. She was engaged. The weight of expectations, the noise of relatives, the quiet tears of her parents — all of it pulled her back. She was trapped in a web that wasn’t entirely hers, and walking away wasn’t as easy as we might wish it to be. I don’t blame her. I never could.

And yet, again, we let go.

I held on to hope until the very end. There were signs, strange alignments — a breakup, an accidental message, the way things unfolded with uncanny timing. I told myself: Maybe this is how miracles begin — not loudly, but in small, strange echoes. I waited. I believed. But nothing came. No miracle. No coincidence. Just silence — deep, familiar silence.

And now, what about the dreams? They should’ve left by now, shouldn’t they? Faded quietly into the background like forgotten songs.
But they haven’t.

They still linger.
They still haunt.
They still whisper to me when the nights are too long and the world is too quiet.

Eighteen years

Eighteen years is when you end childhood

Childhood is painted in bright colors - yellow and oranges

And the ends are too often dark and painful

However, the soft colors of the fall - orange and yellow

They remind us of the beautiful endings

And the love never ends; it matures

It matures to love, I would say

Eighteen years is when you attain adulthood

The time when you will be the guide to your own destiny

The time when you are challenged to find your own path

Love will find a way, they say

And love creates its own way of flowing

Adulthood is the time when you understand 

And appreciate the alternative meaning of love

Eighteen years is when you become responsible

Responsible enough to know what is right and wrong

Responsible enough to control your emotions

Responsible enough to be able to hide your feelings

But, a few irresponsibilities with the eighteen years old

Sounds like precisely that freedom that we have been searching for 

Eighteen years is when you become mature

Maturity is when you accept your mistakes

Maturity is when you stop blaming others

Maturity is when you learn to unlearn things 

Maturity is bouncing back from mistakes and misfortunes

With confidence and optimism

To make things work even in the face of adversity

Eighteen years is when you attain freedom

I dream of freedom as a bird

If we had wings, we would fly away far past infinity

Into the place that we call ours

Where there would be no crowd, shouts or screams

Where we would find solace

The same comfort we found in each other's hugs

Eighteen years

I could write paragraphs on each year of these eighteen years

On each moment of these eighteen years

Of the waves of laughter and the tears 

But, these are just eighteen years

And there are so many more to go

Together.