I often wonder what it must be like to be a person I love.
I am highly critical, rarely satisfied and always on the move: body, mind and soul. How does it feel to love someone who can't stop thinking about the mechanics of breathing long enough to take a breath? What is it like to live with a woman whose eyes constantly dart from one task to the next, never quite settling on you? I wonder and I worry that the ones I love are only choking on the dust I kick up.
I've spent the summer going full steam ahead, trying to get my school licensed. To say that I've had help from my family is a vast understatement. But I'm the one with the vision, the ideas that have rustled between my ears and kept me awake in the small hours of the morning. I'm the one who refuses to blink. And that's how it should be. One frantic dreamer in a family is plenty enough. But it can be lonely to be awake in the middle of the night, with only a head full of tired thoughts to chew on.
I want to say that this will all be easier, that I will be an easier person to love once everything comes together and the business is up and running. I want to believe that I can, for once, be satisfied with something I've done. I want to believe the dreams that orbit my consciousness like ethereal satellites can somehow coalesce into certain goals. But I always worry that satisfaction will lead to complacency, or that focus will turn me stagnant. Again, I am stuck.
How do I feed my dreams without allowing them to eat me alive?