to dream again (what happens when you burn out)
“Do you know what you want to do after this?”
The dreaded question. Exasperated laughter escaped my lips, and I squinted into the air for a potential sign of what should come next.
“You know, I have thought about…” I proceeded to flatly state the one idea I’ve bounced around in my head, making sure not to attach too much emotion or hope to the statement.
Six months ago, I moved here with a giant dream in my carry-on suitcase. I thought I had finally discovered it: what I was supposed to do with my life, the big, giant reason for my existence.
